PHILIP  II.  OF  SPAIN. 


BY 


CHARLES    GAYARRE, 

AUTHOR  OF  "TUB  HISTORY  OF  LOUISIANA  UNDKK  TUB  FEKNCH,  SPANISH,  AND 
AMKEICAN  DOMINATION,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


WITH   AN   INTROIXU^ToORY   LETTER 


BY 

GEORGE  BANCROFT. 


NEW    YORK: 

W.   J.   WIDDLETON,   PUBLISHER. 
1866. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1866, 
BY    CHAELE8  GAYAKEE, 

In  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


NEW   YORK: 

EDWARD    0.    JENKINS,    PRINTER. 
20   NORTH  WILLIAM    ST, 


PREFATORY   NOTE. 


IN  the  following  work  it  has  been  the  Author's 
intention,  as  the  most  general  glance  over  its  pages 
will  discover  to  the  reader,  not  to  present  a  minute 
chronicle  in  regular  narrative  of  the  events  of 
Philip's  reign,  but  in  a  certain  way  a  philosophical 
retrospect  of  what  was  most  memorable  in  Spain 
during  that  period  as  it  was  shaped  by  the  control 
ling  mind  at  the  head  of  affairs — such  a  deduction, 
in  fact,  as  the  modern  student  must  needs  draw  for 
himself  after  he  has  exhausted  the  materials  of 
that  busy  and  important  era.  The  book  may,  there 
fore,  be  regarded  as  an  historical  essay  in  its  exhi 
bition  of  results,  while  it  really  conveys  to  the  read 
er  the  most  noticeable  facts  upon  which  the  various 
conclusions  are  established.  The  striking  events 
both  in  the  domestic  and  foreign  policy  of  the  reign 
are  passed  in  review,  while  the  constant  working 
of  Philip's  irrepressible  nature  and  activity  are  not 
for  a  moment  lost  sight  of  in  his  personal  history. 
The  work  thus  partakes  of  a  biographical  and  his 
torical  interest,  in  which  the  former,  perhaps,  pre 
ponderates  without  injury  to  the  latter. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Philip's  last  Illness  —  He  is  transported  to  the  Escorial  —  Circum 
stances  attending  his  Death  —  Wonderful  sufferings  and  fortitude 
of  that  Prince  —  His  Christian  resignation  and  absence  of  remorse 

—  His  probable  conviction  of  acting  correctly,  when  committing 
crimes  —  An  awful  honesty  of  purpose  in  his  villainy  —  Description 
of  his  character,  and  of  his  physical,  intellectual  and  moral  attri 
butes —  A  parallel  between  Philip  and  Charles  V.  — He  is  inferior 
as  a*statesman  to  Cardinal  Ximenes,  to  his  ancestor  Ferdinand  and 
to  Richelieu  —  His  unbending  religious  fanaticism  —  His  exalted 
ideas  of  the  sanctity  of  Royalty  —  His  systematic  destruction  of  the 
Liberties  of  Spain  —  His  Machiavelian  policy  —  His  despotism  illus 
trated  by  this  laconic  dispatch :    "  Arrest  Lanuza  and  promptly 
cut  off  his  head." 

'      . 
-4-    CHAPTER  II. 

Suppression  of  Heresy  the  grand  object  of  Philip's  life  £- His  relig 
ious  fanaticism  working  for  the  aggrandizement  of  his  temporal 
power  -^-  He  aims  at  the  Unity  of  Religious  Creed  to  arrive  at  the 
Unity  of  Political  Authority  4-  Dealings  of  Philip  with  the  Su 
preme  Pontiff —  He  Lectures  the  Pope  with  the  severity  of  Luther 

—  Council  of  Trent  —  Philip  venerates  and  strangles  Monks  —  The 
Spanish  Clergy  well  bridled  —  Religious  communities  not  to  be  in 
creased  —  Letter  of  advice  from  Charles  to  Philip  —  The  Inquisi 
tion  a  mere  tool  in  the  King's  hands  —  Battles  of  St.  Quentin  and 
Gravelines^- War  with  the  Pope  —  Philip's  Policy  with  his^Min-_ 
isters  and  Servants  —  Don  Carlos  — Don  John  of  Austria  —  The 
Prince  of  Orange  —  Philip  affects  Mystery  in  all  his  Acts  —  His 
fatal  habits  of  Procrastination  —  The  Escorial  —  Reflections  on  that 
Monument^,       .        .        .  .        .        .        .        .        .30 

CHAPTER  III. 

Philip's  Love  for  Literature,  the  Sciences  and  the  Fine  Arts  —  The 
peculiar  way  in  which  he  patronized  them  —  Philip's  person  — 
Philip  in  youth  and  manhood  —  His  early  training  to  Business  — 


VI  CONTENTS. 

His  wonderful  aptitude  for  Labor  —  Political  instructions  from 
Charles  to  Philip  —  Philip's  moral  and  intellectual  education  —  His 
four  wives— _His  favorite  Ministers,  the  Duke  of  Alrg^a,nd_tlie 
Prince  of  Eboli  —  His  magnificent  household  —  Philip  and  his  do 
mestics  —  His  chilling  demeanor  —  The  Pope's  Nuncio  put  out  of 
countenance  —  Philip's  habits  and  amusements  —  Complaints  of 
the  Cortes  about  his  deportment  —  Popularity  of  Philip's  memory 
in  Spain  —  Reasons  for  it  —  Comparison  between  Philip  and  his 
Royal  Contemporaries  —  Condition  of  Spain  when  Charles  ascended 
the  Throne  —  What  he  should  have  done  —  Consequences  of  his 
Reign.  .  .  ,  .  .  ....''..  .  .  .66 

CHAPTER  IY. 

Immense  possessions  and  power  bequeathed  to  Philip  —  He  glorious 
ly  inaugurates  his  accession  to  the  Throne  —  Secret  reason  of  his 
forbearance  after  the  Battle  of  St.  Quentin  -X  He  plans  the  St.  B^-- 
tholomew-^  Alva  at  the. gates  of. Rome  —  Magnanimous»treatment 
of  the  Pope  by  Philip  —  Advantageous  Treaty  of  Peace  with  France 
after  the  Battle  of  Gravelines^-  What  did  Philip  accomplish  with 
his  vast  means  ?  —  The  useless  Victory  of  Lepanto  —  Loss  of  Tunis 
and  of  the  Goleta  —  Review  of  Philip's  policy  and  of  its  consequen 
ces  —  Revolt  of  the  Low  Countries  ^JiPhilip's  internal  Administra 
tion —  Its  disastrous  effects  —  Winced  loans  and  other  iniquitous 
measures  —  Remonstrances  of  the  Cortes  —  Manner  in  which  they 
are  received  —  Fierce  religious  persecution  —  Philip's  precautiona 
ry  measures  against  the  introduction  of  new  doctrines  and  ideas 
into  Spain — Spaniards  forbidden  to  study  or  teach  out  of  Spain  — 
Petitions  of  the  Cortes  on  various  subjects  —  Financial  measures  — 
Philip's  want  of  economy  —  Madrid  chosen  as  the  Capital  of  Spain 

—  War  with  the  Moors  of  Granada — Their  treatment  by  Philip  — 
Impoverishment  of  Spain.  ,        . 103 

CHAPTER  Y. 

Antonio  Perez,  the  celebrated  Minister  of  Philip-^- His  character  — 
The  Princess  of  Eboli  —  Relations  between  Perez  and  the  Princess 

—  Escovedo,  the  Secretary  of  Don  John  of  Austria  —  He  is  murder 
ed —  Arrest  of  Perez  and  of  the  Princess  of  Eboli  —  Escovedo's  son 
accuses  Perez  and  the  Princess  of  the  murder  of  his  Father  — 
Haughty  letter  from  the  Princess  to  Philip  —  Unaccountable  con 
duct  of  Philip  on  this  occasion  —  He  seems  in  turn  to  urge  and 
stop  the  prosecution  —  Interesting  details  of  this  long  and  extra 
ordinary  trial  —  Crimes  for  which  Perez  was  condemned  in  Mad 
rid  to  fine,  imprisonment  and  exile  from  Court  —  Nothing  about  Es 
covedo's  murder —  Philip's  visit  to  Aragon  —  Prosecution  against 


CONTENTS.  Vii 

Perez  revived  in  that  Kingdom  for  the  murder  of  Escovedo  —  In 
carceration  of  the  wife  and  sons  of  Perez  —  Certain  State  Papers 
surrendered  to  Philip  by  the  wife  of  Perez  jC-  She  is  released  with 
her  sons  —  Strange  confession  made  by  Philip  about  the  murder  of 
Escovedo  —  Perez  is  put  to  the  torture  —  Perez  flies  to  Aragon,  of 
which  he  is  a  native,  and  claims  for  his  protection  the  franchises 
and  privileges  of  that  Kingdom  —  He  is  claimed  by  the  Inquisition 
—  The  Aragonese  refuse  to  deliver  him  up  —  He  is  seized  by  the 
Inquisition  in  Saragoza  —  The  people  rise  and  compel  the  Inqui 
sition  to  give  up  their  prisoner  —  Perez  again  retaken  by  the  Inqui 
sition  — Another  explosion  of  the  people  —  The  Viceroy  and  other 
authorities  driven  out  of  Saragoza —  Perez  flies  to  France)^- Inci 
dents  of  his  flight  —  Reflections  on  the  Franchises  of  Aragon.  .  145 

CHAPTER  YI. 

Philip  avails  himself  of  the  riots  in  Saragoza  to  destroy  the  Liberties 
of  Aragon  —  March  of  a  Castilian  Army  under  Vargas  —  Deceitful* 
promises  of  Vargas  and  Philip  —  Vargas  enters  Saragoza  — Tran 
quillity  restored  —  Arrest  of  Lanuza,  of  the  Duke  of  Villahermosa, 
of  the  Count  of  Aranda  and  other  illustrious  personages  —  The 
reign  of  terror  in  Saragoza  —  Lanuza  is  beheaded  —  Villahermosa 
and  Aranda  die  in  Prison  —  Numberless  executions  —  The  Scaffold 
reeking  with  blood  in  Saragoza  and  other  places  —  A  grim  joke  — 
The  hangman  hung  by  his  own  aids — Destruction  of  the  fran 
chises  of  Aragon  — Perez  re-enters  Spain  with  an  armed  force  —  His 
defeat  —  His  second  flight  to  France  -^He  is  received  and  patron 
ized  by  Henry  IV.  ^  His  repeated  escapes  from  assassination  — 
His  subsequeut  career  —  His  death  —  Wonderful  friendship  and 
sacrifices  of  Gil  de  La  Mesa  for  Perez  —  Gabriel  de  Espinosa,  the 
pastry-cook  of  Madrigal  —  He  passes  himself  oft'  for  Don  Sebastian, 
the  late  King  of  Portugal  —  He  is  affianced  to  a  Nun,  daughter  of 
Don  John  of  Austria — His  trial  and  execution.  ....  198 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Cortes  - -They  are  gradually  deprived  of  their  ancient  attributes 
and  privileges  —  Taxation  and  Tributes  —  Ecclesiastical  tithes  — 
Administration  of  justice  —  Proposed  internal  improvements  —  Po 
litical  economy  —  Abuses  of  the  Royal  power  —  Violations  of  the 
privileges  of  cities,  towns  and  corporations  —  Immorality  of  the 
Clergy  —  Attempted  reforms  —  Regulations  about  prostitutes  —  f 
Medicine  and  Surgery  —  Naturalization  —  Breed  of  Horses  —  Re 
monstrances  of  the  Cortes  against  the  bribing  of  their  members  by 
the  King  —  Unproductive  accumulation  of  wealth  in  Monasteries  — 
Curious  sumptuary  laws  —  The  use  of  coaches  denounced  by  the 


CONTENTS. 

Cortes  —  Universities  and  public  education  —  Taxes  not  to  be  levied 
except  granted  by  the  people  —  Bull-fights  considered  a  useful  in 
stitution  —  The  clergy  getting  possession  of  all  the  lands  of  the 
Kingdom  —  Philip  opposed  to  any  innovation.  .  .  .  .  239 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Hopeless  impoverishment  of  Spain  —  The  King  an  incorrigible  spend 
thrift —  Injudicious  financial  measures  —  Violations  of  contracts  — 
The  creditors  of  the  State  defrauded  —  Repudiation  and  its  conse 
quences  —  Beginning  of  a  statistical,  historical  and  geographical 
work  on  Spain  by  Royal  authority  —  It  is  abandoned —  The  Esco- 
rial  in  its  economical,  artistic,  political  and  religious  points  of  view 
—  It  exhausts  the  resources  of  Spain  — Views  of  the  Cortes  about 
the  establishment  of  public  granaries  and  other  administrative 
measures  —  The  military,  and  their  outrages  against  citizens  — 
Sales  by  the  Crown  of  towns,  villages,  regiments,  titles  of  nobility 
and  vassals — Philip's  systematic  disregard  of  the  wishes  of  the 
Cortes  —  Their  interminable  sessions  —  Decrees  against  tailors  and 
dressmakers  — The  use  of  masks  prohibited  —  Foreign  peddlers  de 
nounced — Remonstrances  of  the  Cortes  on  many  subjects  —  They 
are  unnoticed  by  the  King  —  The  Cortes  reduced  to  a  nullity  —  com 
plete  annihilation  of  the  liberties  of  Spain.  .  .  .  -  .  .267 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  intellectual  condition  of  Spain  —  Political  retrospect  — An  era  of 
war,  romance  and  poetry  —  The  Kingdoms  of  Aragon  and  Castile  — 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  —  Government  of  the  Queen  —  Conquest  of 
Granada  —  Discovery  of  America  — Consequences  of  those  events  — 
Influence  of  Italy  on  Spanish  art  and  literature  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  V.— Native  productions.  ....  .  .  .303 

CHAPTER  X. 

Literature,  the  arts  and  sciences  in  the  reign  of  Philip  — A  critical  ex 
amination  of  the  works  of  the  most  distinguished  men  in  Spain  at 
that  epoch  —  Lyrical  poetry  —  Father  Luis  de  Leon,  Fernando  de 
Herrera  and  others  —  Epic  poetry — Ercilla,  &c. —  The  Drama  — 
Lope  de  Vega,  &c.  —  Novels  —  The  Vagabond  style  — Hurtado  de 
Mendoza  — Lazarillo  de  Tormes  —  Cervantes  —  Don  Quixote  — His 
torical  compositions  —  Marianna,  &c.  —  Pulpit  eloquence  —  Monta- 
no's  Polyglot  Bible  —  General  considerations  —  Conclusion.  .  .  329 


INTRODUCTORY  LETTER. 


YORK,  November    17,  1866. 

MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  Accept  my  thanks  for  giving 
me  an  opportunity  of  perusing  the  work  of  Mr. 
Gayarre  on  Philip  the  Second  of  Spain  in  ad 
vance.  I  am  very  glad  that  he  has  found  a  pub 
lisher  in  New  York.  We  need  a  unity  in  the 
commonwealth  of  letters  as  well  as  in  the  com 
monwealth  of  States,  and  the  development  of 
the  national  mind  would  be  imperfect  if  each 
part  of  the  country  did  not  contribute  its  stream 
to  the  great  river  of  public  opinion.  Our 
literature,  like  our  political  life,  should  develop 
unity  in  diversity,  and  the  more  the  minds  of 
men  in  one  part  of  the  country  are  brought 
closely  alongside  the  minds  of  men  of  other 
parts,  the  better  will  it  be  for  national  culture. 
Boston  publishers  recently  brought  out  a  new 
volume  of  Elves'  s  Life  of  Madison,  and  it  is 
the  most  valuable  contribution  of  the  last 
winter  to  the  history  of  the  American  Consti- 


11  INTRODUCTORY    LETTER. 

tution  and  Union.  It  supplies  a  want  which 
has  been  very  much  felt.  It  traces  the  history 
of  the  Constitution  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  great  statesmen  of  Virginia  who  took  part 
in  that  immortal  work.  There  are  some  things 
in  the  volume  to  which  objections  may  lie ;  all 
analogies  drawn  from  the  Greek  republics  and 
applied  to  ours,  are  founded  upon  erroneous 
notions;  for  the  Greek  Republic  and  ours  are 
as  unlike  as  possible,  the  Greek  republic  being 
an  absolute  government  and  ours  a  limited 
•government  —  the  Greek  republic  asserting 
despotic  authority  for  the  State,  and  ours 
beginning  by  the  assertion  of  the  inalien 
able  rights  of  individual  man.  I  mention  this 
in  particular,  because  the  inferences  drawn 
from  ancient  examples  and  applied  to  our  time 
have  been  as  disastrous  in  their  consequences 
as  they  have  been  wrong  in  their  principle, 
Nor  do  I  accept  the  statements  of  the  distin 
guished  author  about  republicanism  and  de 
mocracy.  But  differences  of  opinion  and  dis 
cussion  lead  to  good,  and  it  is  no  more  than 
justice  to  say  that  Mr.  Rives  has  treated  his 
subject  in  a  spirit  of  candor  and  impartiality. 
One  of  my  friends  on  finishing  the  volume  said 
to  me  that  it  had  for  him  all  the  interest  of  a 


INTRODUCTORY    LETTER.  Ill 

novel.  It  may  certainly  lay  claim  to  be  con 
sidered  as  one  of  the  fairest  and  most  complete 
histories,  perhaps  it  can  more  justly  be  said 
that  it  is  the  best  history,  of  the  formation  of 
the  federal  Constitution. 

Mr.  Gayarre  has  claims  upon  us  of  old.  He 
is  the  author  of  a  history  of  Louisiana  which  is 
the  fruit  of  thorough  research  and  takes  a  very 
high  rank  among  the  best  histories  of  the 
several  states.  His  present  work  is  written 
with  care  and  vivacity ;  with  a  mind  superior 
to  the  influences  of  superstition,  and  compre 
hensive  in  its  study  of  the  causes  and  conse 
quences  of  events.  He  has  a  quick  eye  for  the 
picturesque,  and  a  rapid  movement  in  his  nar 
rative  which,  if  sometimes  too  highly  orna 
mented,  is  never  languid ;  and  he  clearly  por 
trays  the  social  and  political  tendencies  of  the 
reign  which  he  describes.  The  subject  at  the 
first  blush  might  seem  to  be  remote  from  our 
present  interests,  but  it  is  not  so.  Spanish 
America  from  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado  to  the 
extreme  South  still  languishes  from  the  at 
tempt  continued  through  centuries  to  connect 
government  and  civil  prosperity  with  the 
Church  policy  of  Charles  the  Fifth  and  Philip 
the  Second.  So  the  volume  of  Mr.  Gayarr6, 


IV  INTRODUCTORY   LETTER. 

like  that  of  Mr.  Rives,  has  an  important  con 
nection  with  the  great  questions  which  the 
mind  of  America  is  now  engaged  in  solving. 
Both  of  them  are  indirectly  the  highest  trib 
utes  to  the  incomparable  excellency  of  our  in 
stitutions,  and  are  the  most  earnest  admoni 
tions  in  favor  of  their  perpetuity.  The  lessons 
come  with  particular  value  and  distinctness 
from  Mr.  Gayarre  as  he  is  of  Spanish  descent 
and  is  wholly  free  from  even  the  suspicion  of 
a  bias  unfavorable  to  Spain. 

I  hope  in  your  career  as  a  publisher  you  will 
go  on  as  you  have  begun,  introducing  to  the 
public  the  works  of  men  from  all  parts  of  our 
great  continental  country ;  it  is  the  only  way 
to  build  up  a  truly  national  literature. 
Respectfully  yours, 

GEORGE  BANCROFT. 

W.    J.    WlDDLETON,    ESQ. 


PHILIP  II.  OF  SPAIN. 

CHAPTER   I. 

IT  is  impossible  for  one  who  knows  anything  of 
the  life  of  Philip  the  Second,  king  of  Spain,  not  to 
feel  a  strong  curiosity  to  be  truthfully  informed  how 
such  a  man  died.  Was  there  aught  in  the  circum 
stances  of  his  death  which  we  may  seize  upon  as  a 
revelation  throwing  light  on  his  dark  and  mysterious 
character  ?  He  of  the  iron  will ;  he  whose  word, 
or  sign-manual,  had  prematurely  sent  out  of  this 
world  so  many  of  his  fellow-beings,  how  did  he 
demean  himself  when  tortures,  a  hundred-fold  more 
terrible  than  any  he  had  inflicted,  racked  his  body 
for  months,  and  when  he  found  himself  in  the  pres 
ence  of  a  master  and  conqueror  far  more  inexor 
able  than  he  himself  had  been  to  any  of  his  subjects 
or  enemies  ?  Prescott  has  left  unfinished  the  his 
tory  of  the  stern  son  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  and,  to 
gratify  a  cherished  companion  of  our  solitude,  who 
has  lately  been  perusing  with  so  much  delight  his 
immortal  pages,  and  who  has  found  in  them  a  diver 
sion  from  the  pressure  of  daily  anxieties,  and  from 
the  apprehensions  of  impending  dangers  amidst  the 
clash  of  arms,  it  is  our  purpose  to  penetrate  into 

(i) 


2  PHILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN. 

the  Escorial,  and  to  show  Philip  closing  his  earthly 
career.  After  depositing  him  in  the  tomb  prepared 
by  his  pride,  we  shall  condense,  in  a  rapid  review, 
the  appreciation'  of  the  character  and  reign  of  one 
v/ho  presents  so  grand,  so  deep,  so  varied  and  so 
dramatic  a  subject  to  the  study  of  the  historian,  the 
philosopher  and  the  poet. 

When  the  news  spread  that  the  monarch  who 
had  been  surnamed  the  "Demon  of  the  South"  had 
retired,  in  his  old  age,  from  his  capital,  to  pass  his 
last  fugitive  days  and  expire,  like  his  father,  amidst 
Hyronimite  Monks,  in  that  gigantic  architectural 
structure  which  he  had  been  thirty-two  years  in 
erecting,  and  in  which  he  had  united  a  palace,  a 
monastery  and  a  mausoleum,  the  world,  which  he 
had  so  long  agitated,  drew  a  long  breath  and  hoped 
for  rest.  Philip  had  been  suffering  from  the  gout 
for  twenty  years,  and  at  last  that  disease  had  ac 
quired  an  intolerable  degree  of  intensity.  During 
the  two  years  which  preceded  his  death,  it  had 
become  complicated  with  a  hectical  fever,  which  had 
so  completely  exhausted  his  strength,  that  he  had  to 
be  carried  about  in  an  arm-chair.  That  fever  pro 
duced  the  dropsy  ;  it  tortured  him  with  an  unextin- 
guishable  thirst,  which  it  was  fatal  to  indulge,  and 
which,  to  resist,  was  one  of  the  torments  attributed 
by  the  imagination  to  the  reprobates  of  divine  jus 
tice  in  the  regions  of  eternal  punishment.  Eighteen 
months  before  he  closed  his  eyes  forever,  the 
malignity  of  the  humors  into  which  his  whole  body 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  3 

seemed  to  be  transforming  itself,  had  produced  sores 
in  his  right  hand  and  foot,  which  gave  him  the  most 
intense  pains,  particularly  when  coming  into  contact 
with  the  sheets  of  his  bed. 

It  was  in  this  condition  that  he  had  been  trans 
ported  to  the  Escorial,  where  had  just  arrived  in 
great  pomp,  and  been  received  with  all  the  solemn 
ceremonies  of  the  Catholic  Church,  a  precious  col 
lection  of  sacred  relics  which  he  had  procured  from 
Germany,  through  the  exertions  of  a  Commission 
which  had  been  sent  to  that  country  for  that  special 
purpose.  On  hearing  of  this  religious  festival,  the 
infirm  monarch  seemed  to  revive,  and,  notwithstand 
ing  the  advice  of  his  physicians  and  the  remon 
strances  of  the  members  of  his  Council,  insisted  on  his 
being  taken  to  his  favorite  residence.  "  I  wish,"  he 
said,  "  to  be  carried  alive  to  the  place  of  my  sepul 
chre.1'  It  was  impossible  to  disobey,  and  a  chair 
was  constructed  in  which  he  could  almost  lie  down 
as  if  in  bed.  It  was  thus  that  he  left  Madrid  on  the 
30th  of  June,  1598.  The  slightest  jolt  produced  in 
the  royal  patient  the  most  acute  pains ;  the  men, 
who  carried  him  on  their  shoulders,  had  to  walk 
with  much  precaution,  and  with  such  slow  and  meas 
ured  steps,  that  the  dismal  procession  was  six  days 
in  traversing  the  twenty-four  miles  which  separate 
the  Escorial  from  Madrid.  At  the  sight  of  the 
austere-looking  building,  for  which  he  had  always 
entertained  the  fondest  predilection,  Philip  seemed 
to  rally  his  spirits  and  to  recover  some  bodily 


4  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

strength.  He  was  received  with  the  accustomed 
honors  by  the  monks  whom  he  had  established 
there,  and,  on  the  next  day,  he  was  carried  to  the 
church,  where  he  remained  a  long  time  in  prayer. 
Afterward,  and  for  several  succeeding  days, 
stretched  in  his  arm-chair,  and  almost  as  motionless 
as  a  corpse,  he  was  present  at  the  ceremony  of  de 
positing  the  German  relics  in  their  destined  places  at 
the  different  altars  of  the  church.  Still  upheld  in 
his  chair  by  the  strong  arms  of  his  attendants,  he 
visited  the  libraries,  which  were  in  the  first  and 
second  stories  of  the  edifice,  and  minutely  inspected 
the  vast  pile  in  all  its  departments,  examining  all 
the  objects  of  interest  which  it  contained,  like  one 
who  enjoyed  the  completion  of  his  great  work  and 
wished  to  take  final  leave  of  all  its  magnificence. 

But  his  fever  increased,  and  assumed  an  inter 
mittent  character.  The  patient,  with  the  complica 
tion  of  diseases  under  which  he  was  sinking,  be 
came  so  weak  that  his  physicians  were  much  alarmed. 
It  was  a  tertian  fever,  and  although  it  was  with 
much  difficulty  stopped  for  some  time,  it  returned 
with  more  violence,  with  daily  attacks,  and  within 
shortening  intervals.  At  the  end  of  a  week,  a  ma 
lignant  tumor  manifested  itself  in  his  right  knee, 
increased  prodigiously,  and  produced  the  most  in 
tense  pain.  As  the  last  resort,  when  all  other 
modes  of  relief  had  been  exhausted,  the  physicians 
resolved  to  open  the  tumor  ;  and,  as  it  was  feared 
that  the  patient,  from  his  debility,  would  not  be  able 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  5 

to  bear  the  operation,  the  physicians,  with  much 
precaution,  communicated  to  him  their  apprehen 
sions.  He  received  this  information  with  great  for 
titude,  and  prepared  himself  by  a  general  confession 
for  what  might  happen.  He  caused  some  relics  to 
be  brought  to  him,  and,  after  having  adored  and 
kissed  them  with  much  devotion,  he  put  his  body 
at  the  disposal  of  his  medical  attendants.  The 
operation  was  performed  by  the  skillful  surgeon, 
Juan  de  Vergara ;  it  was  a  very  painful  one,  and 
all  those  who  were  present  were  amazed  at  the 
patience  and  courage  exhibited  by  Philip. 

His  condition,  however,  did  not  improve.  The 
hand  of  God  was  upon  him  who  had  caused  so  many 
tears  to  be  shed  during  his  long  life,  and  no  human 
skill  could  avail  when  divine  justice  seemed  bent 
to  enforce  its  decree  of  retribution.  Above  the 
gash  which  the  operator's  knife  had  made,  two  large 
sores  appeared,  and  from  their  hideous  and  ghastly 
lips  there  issued  such  a  quantity  of  matter  as  hardly 
seems  credible.  To  the  consuming  heat  of  fever,  to 
the  burning  thirst  of  dropsy,  were  added  the  cor 
roding  itch  of  ulcers  and  the  infection  of  the  inex 
haustible  streams  of  putrid  matter  which  gushed 
from  his  flesh.  The  stench  around  the  powerful 
sovereign  of  Spain  and  the  Indies  was  such  as  to  be 
insupportable  to  the  by-standers.  Immersed  in  this 
filth,  the  body  of  the  patient  was  so  sore  that  it 
could  be  turned  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  change  his  clothes  or  his 


6  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

bedding.  So  sensitive  had  he  become,  that  the 
slightest  touch  produced  the  most  intolerable  agony ; 
and  the  haughty  ruler  of  millions  of  men  remained 
helplessly  stretched  in  a  sty,  and  in  a  more  pitiable 
condition  than  that  of  the  most  ragged  beggar  in 
his  vast  dominions.  But  his  fortitude  was  greater 
than  his  sufferings  ;  not  a  word  of  complaint  was 
heard  to  escape  from  his  lips  ;  and  the  soul  remained 
unsubdued  by  these  terrible  infirmities  of  the  flesh. 
He  had  been  thirty-five  days  embedded  in  this  sink 
of  corruption,  when,  in  consequence  of  it,  his  whole 
back  became  but  one  sore  from  his  neck  downward  ; 
so  that,  of  him  it  might  have  been  said  with  singu 
lar  appropriateness  of  scriptural  language,  "  that 
Satan  had  smote  him  with  sore  boils  from  the  sole  of 
his  foot  unto  his  crown/'  if,  indeed,  the  prince  of 
darkness  could  have  been  supposed  to  be  so  harsh 
toward  one  of  whom  he  certainly  had  no  cause  to 
complain.  On  this  occasion,  it  rather  looked  like 
the  smiting  of  God. 

It  seemed  scarcely  possible  to  increase  the  afflic 
tions  of  Philip,  when  a  chicken  broth  sweetened  with 
sugar,  which  was  administered  to  him,  gave  rise  to 
other  accidents  which  added  to  the  fetidness  of  his 
apartment,  and  which  are  represented,  besides,  as  be 
ing  of  an  extraordinary  and  horrible  character.  He 
became  sleepless,  with  occasional  short  fits  of  lethar 
gy  ;  and,  as  it  were  to  complete  this  spectacle  of  hu 
man  misery  and  degradation,  the  ulcers  teemed  with 
a  prodigious  quantity  of  worms,  which  reproduced 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  7 

themselves  with  such  prolific  abundance,  that  they 
defied  all  attempts  to  remove  their  indestructible 
swarms.  In  this  condition  he  remained  fifty-three 
days,  without  taking  anything  which  could  satisfac 
torily  explain  the  prolongation  of  his  existence. 
To  some  it  seemed  a  miracle,  but  it  certainly  was  a 
great  lesson  to  the  sufferer  and  to  the  world  ;  for 
this  man  had  been  for  nearly  half  a  century  called 
"  majesty ; "  he  had  been  considered  as  a  thing 
august  and  sacred,  as  the  representative  of  God  on 
earth  ;  so  much  so,  that,  being  accidentally  struck, 
when  a  boy,  by  one  of  his  youthful  companions,  the 
unintentional  offender  was  doomed  to  death,  although 
the  decree,  through  the  entreaties  of  Philip  himself 
to  his  father  the  Emperor,  was  not  carried  into  exe 
cution.  God  was  now  showing  to  what  a  degree 
of  abjection  He  could  bring  the  haughty  and  sinful 
being  who  had  always  been  above  all  human  laws, 
and  whom  it  had  almost  been  a  sacrilege  to  offend. 
So,  at  least,  thought  the  folly  of  man. 

In  the  midst  of  these  excruciating  sufferings,  his 
whole  body  being  but  one  leprous  sore,  his  emacia 
tion  being  such  that  his  bones  threatened  to  pierce 
through  his  skin,  Philip  maintained  unimpaired  the 
serenity  of  his  mind  and  the  wonderful  fortitude 
which  he  had  hitherto  displayed.  To  religion  alone, 
or  what  to  him  was  religion,  he  looked  for  consola 
tion.  The  walls  of  the  small  apartment  in  which  he 
lay  were  covered  with  crucifixes,  relics,  and  images 
of  saints.  From  time  to  time  he  would  call  for  one 


8  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

of  them  and  apply  it  to  his  burning  lips,  or  to  one 
of  his  sores,  with  the  utmost  fervor  and  faith.  In 
these  days  of  trial,  he  made  many  pious  donations, 
and  appropriated  large  sums  to  the  dotation  of 
establishments  for  the  relief  of  widows  and  orphans, 
and  to  the  foundation  of  hospitals  and  sanctuaries. 
It  is  strange  that,  in  the  condition  in  which  we  have 
represented  him  to  be,  he  could  turn  his  attention  to 
temporal  affairs,  and  had  sufficient  strength  of  mind 
to  dictate  to  his  minister  and  confidential  secretary, 
Cristoval  de  Mora,  some  of  his  views  and  intentions 
for  the  conduct  of  the  government ;  or  rather,  it  was 
not  strange  ;  for  it  was  the  ruling  passion,  strong 
in  death.  In  old  age  and  amidst  such  torments 
as  appalled  the  world,  Philip  displayed  the  same 
tenacity  of  purpose  and  love  of  power  which  had 
characterized  him,  when  flushed  with  the  aspirations 
of  youth  and  health,  and  subsequently  when  glorying 
in  the  strength  and  experience  of  manhood. 

But  the  last  act  of  the  drama  was  to  be  perform 
ed,  and  the  monarch  felt  that  he  must  quit  the  stage 
where  he  had  long  acted  so  conspicuous  a  part.  He 
begged  the  Nuncio  of  his  Holiness  to  bestow  upon 
him  apostolic  benediction  in  the  name  of  the  Su 
preme  Pontiff.  The  request  was  granted,  and  a 
special  messenger  whom  the  Nuncio  sent  to  Rome 
with  information  of  what  he  had  done,  brought  back 
the  confirmation  of  the  Pope  before  Philip  had  died. 
He  next  required,  with  a  voice  which  was  every 
moment  becoming  more  feeble,  the  administration 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  9 

of  the  extreme  unction,  the  ceremonial  text  of  which 
he  had  previously  desired  his  confessor  to  read  to 
him  from  the  Roman  ritual.  He  sent  for  his  son,  the 
hereditary  prince,  that  he  might  be  present  at  this 
solemn  religious  act.  The  extreme  unction  was 
administered  to  him  by  the  Archbishop  of  Toledo  ; 
on  which  occasion  he  said  to  his  future  successor : 
"I  wished  you,  my  son,  to  be  present,  that  you 
might  see  in  what  way  end  all  things  in  this  world." 
After  having  given  the  prince  much  wholesome 
advice  as  to  religion  and  the  principles  of  good  gov 
ernment,  he  dismissed  him,  much  moved  by  a  scene 
so  full  of  tender  and  sad  impressions.  From  that 
day  the  dying  monarch  gave  up  all  thoughts  of  tem 
poral  affairs,  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  the  salva 
tion  of  his  soul  by  preparing  for  a  Christian  death. 
He  caused  the  coffin  of  the  emperor,  his  father,  to 
be  opened,  and  the  body  to  be  examined,  in  order 
that  his  own  should  be  dressed  for  its  sepulture  after 
the  same  fashion.  He  ordered  two  wax  candles 
which  his  father  had  used  in  his  last  moments  to  be 
brought  to  him,  and  also  the  crucifix  which  Charles 
had  held  in  his  hands  when  expiring.  He  further 
requested  that  the  crucifix  be  suspended  to  the  cur 
tains  of  his  couch,  in  front  of  him,  so  that  his  eyes 
might  rest  on  the  image  of  the  Comforter  and  Saviour. 
He  had  his  coffin  placed  alongside  of  his  bed,  and 
directed  that,  before  being  deposited  in  it,  his  corpse 
be  incased  in  a  leaden  box,  as  he  well  knew  the  state 
of  putrefaction  to  which  he  had  been  doomed  before 


10  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

death.  These  commands  were  issued  with  the 
utmost  self-possession  and  the  most  tranquil  precis 
ion,  amidst  agonies  which  it  required  superhuman 
courage  to  endure — in  an  atmosphere  so  fetid  that 
it  well-nigh  stifled  the  most  robust  of  his  attendants — 
when  rottenness  was  in  the  flesh  and  bones  of  him 
who  spoke  so  calmly,  and  when  myriads  of  worms 
were  rioting  on  his  carcass.  At  the  sight  of  this 
triumph  of  the  soul  over  perishing  matter,  admira 
tion  seeks  to  forget  deeds,  the  memory  of  which 
must,  however,  live  as  long  as  the  records  of  history 
shall  last  for  the  instruction  of  mankind  and  the 
terror  of  evil-doers. 

On  the  llth  of  September,  two  days  before  his 
death,  he  called  the  hereditary  prince,  his  son,  and 
the  infanta,  his  daughter,  to  his  bedside.  He  took 
leave  of  them  in  the  most  affectionate  manner,  and 
with  a  voice  scarcely  audible  from  exhaustion,  he 
exhorted  them  to  persevere  in  the  true  faith,  and  to 
conduct  themselves  with  prudence  in  the  govern 
ment  of  those  States  which  he  would  leave  to  them. 
He  handed  to  his  confessor  the  celebrated  testament 
ary  instructions  bequeathed  by  St.  Louis  of  France 
to  the  heir  of  his  crown,  and  requested  the  priest  to 
read  them  to  the  prince  and  princess,  to  whom  he 
afterward  extended  his  fleshless  and  ulcered  hand 
to  be  kissed,  giving  them  his  blessing,  and  dismiss 
ing  them  melting  into  tears.  On  the  next  day.  the 
physicians  gave  Cristoval  de  Mora  the  disagreeable 
mission  of  informing  Philip  that  his  last  hour  was 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIIST.  11 

rapidly  approaching.  The  dying  man  received  the 
information  with  his  usual  impassibility.  He  de 
voutly  listened  to  the  exhortations  of  the  Archbishop 
of  Toledo,  made  his  profession  of  faith,  and  ordered 
that  the  passion  of  Christ  from  the  Gospel  of  John  be 
read  to  him.  Shortly  after,  he  was  seized  with  such 
a  fit  that  he  was  thought  to  be  dead,  and  a  covering 
was  thrown  over  his  face.  But  he  was  not  long 
before  coming  again  to  his  senses  and  opening  his 
eyes.  He  took  the  crucifix,  kissed  it  repeatedly, 
listened  to  the  prayers  for  the  souls  of  the  departed 
which  the  Prior  of  the  monastery  was  reading  to 
him,  and  with  a  slight  quivering  passed  away,  at  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  on  the  13th  of  September, 
1598.  Philip  had  lived  seventy-one  years,  three 
months  and  twenty-two  days,  and  reigned  forty-two 
years.  Thus  ended  the  career  of  this  prince,  in  that 
place  of  retirement  and  meditation  from  which,  with 
one  stroke  of  the  pen,  he  used  to  send  dismay,  dark 
intrigues,  civil  commotions,  religious  perturbations, 
and  direful  wars,  into  many  regions  of  the  Old  and 
of  the  New  World.  Thus  lay  low  and  cold  the  head 
which  had  teemed  with  so  many  schemes  fatal  to 
Spain  and  to  other  countries.  Thus  was  palsied  for 
ever  the  hand  which  had  so  long  held  the  manifold 
threads  of  the  complicated  politics  and  interests  of 
so  many  empires.  The  Christian  Tiberius  was  no 
more. 

What  Philip  had  prescribed  to  be  done  with  his 
corpse  was  faithfully  executed.     Don  Cristoval  de 


12  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

Mora  and  Don  Antonio  de  Toledo  were  the  execu 
tors  of  his  will.  The  body,  after  having  been 
washed  and  cleansed  from  the  impurities  with 
which  it  was  coated  all  over,  was  dressed  in  a  linen 
garment,  then  wrapped  in  a  modest  and  common 
winding-sheet,  and  deposited  in  a  lead  coffin,  with 
an  humble  wooden  cross  hanging  from  the  neck  by 
a  coarse  rope.  The  monks  paid  such  funeral  honors 
as  were  due  to  the  royal  founder  of  their  monastery, 
and  to  the  liberal  protector  whom  they  had  lost ; 
after  which  the  body  of  Philip  the  Second  was  laid 
with  solemn  ceremonies  in  the  vault  chosen  by  him 
self  in  the  Pantheon  which  he  had  erected  for  the 
house  of  Austria. 

No  martyr  ever  died  with  more  fortitude,  more 
faith,  and  more  religious  hope,  than  Philip  the 
Second.  He  seems  to  have  had  no  remorse  for  the 
deeds  he  had  done,  and  at  the  recollection  of  which 
it  is  hardly  possible  not  to  shudder.  He  was  free 
from  those  terrors  which  haunted  Louis  the  Eleventh 
of  France,  and  other  tyrants,  on  their  death-bed. 
The  spectres  of  Carlos,  Orange,  Egmont,  Horn, 
Montigny,  and  other  victims,  did  not  rise,  like 
Banquo's  ghost,  to  shake  their  gory  locks  at  the 
dying  murderer.  He  expressed,  for  aught  that  we 
know,  no  regret,  no  repentance,  no  contrition  for  the 
shedding  of  those  streams  of  human  blood  in  which 
he  had  steeped  himself  to  the  lips,  nor  did  he  show 
the  slightest  disposition  to  make  reparation  to  those 
whom  the  world  thought  he  had  wronged.  He  died 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  13 

with  Christian  meekness  and  serenity,  and  with  his 
eyes  fixed  on  the  image  of  that  Saviour  against  whose 
precepts  his  whole  life  had  been  a  perpetual  out 
rage.  Surely,  it  is  a  moral  phenomenon  which 
requires  explanation — a  psychological  mystery  which 
demands  a  solution.  This  explanation  and  solution 
can  be  found  only  in  the  hypothesis,  it  seems  to  us, 
that  Philip  remained  persuaded  to  the  last  hour  of 
his  life  that  he  was  right  when  he  committed  those 
acts  which  struck  with  horror  his  contemporaries, 
and  are  still  execrated  by  posterity.  The  peculiar 
idiosyncrasy  of  the  man,  the  ethics  of  the  age  in 
which  he  lived,  the  influence  of  the  social  and  politi 
cal  atmosphere  in  which  he  breathed  since  his  infan 
cy,  must  be  taken  into  consideration  to  do  justice  to 
his  character.  In  his  boyhood,  as  we  have  said 
before,  he  had  been  taught  that  to  strike  him,  even 
involuntarily  or  accidentally,  was  a  crime  deserving 
death.  He  had  grown  up  to  consider  himself,  as 
king,  the  representative  of  God  on  earth  ;  his  will 
was  law,  and  he  was  subject  to  none.  Bigoted  as 
he  was,  he  permitted  no  interference  with  his  au 
thority  in  temporal  affairs,  even  from  the  head  of 
the  Catholic  Church.  He  conceived  himself  tp  bfi 
^^Abs£lut£jn^is_domimons,  as  he  acknowledged 
the  Pope  to  be  in  spiritual  matters  and  in  such 
domains  as  had  been  granted  to  him  for  the  support 
of  his  pontifical  dignity. 

It  is  not  improbable  that  Philip  conscientiously 
believed  that  any  opposition  to  the  king's  will,  either 


14  PHILIP   II.   OP  SPAIN. 

in  religion  or  in  matters  of  State,  was  the  most 
heinous  offence  that  could  be  committed.  He  was 
the  temporal  vicegerent  of  the  Deity  on  earth  ;  he 
drew  his  power  from  that  source,  and  not  from  man. 
Therefore  any  attempt  to  restrain  that  power  was  a 
sacrilege,  and  death  was  but  the  deserved  penalty, 
which  he  had  the  right  to  inflict,  when,  where,  and 
how  he  pleased,  whether  by  the  stroke  of  the  public 
executioner,  by  the  secret  dagger  of  the  assassin,  or 
by  the  slow  but  sure  action  of  poison.  What  mat 
tered  the  mode  of  death,  if  death  was  rightfully  at 
his  command  ?  It  was  the  justice  of  the  king,  not 
passion,  not  hatred,  not  revenge,  which  had  struck 
the  blow.  He  never  was  carried  away  by  any 
sudden  impulse  ;  all  his  acts  were  the  result  of  long 
meditation.  He  permitted  no  surprise  of  his  judg 
ment,  no  lashing  of  his  blood  into  uncontrolled 
storms.  The  ebullitions  of  his  heart  never  obscured 
with  their  hot  fumes  the  icy  chambers  of  his  head. 
He  never  seemed  to  be  aware  of  having  committed 
a  crime,  and  to  seek,  like  many  other  bigots,  to  pro 
pitiate  Heaven's  indulgence,  or  to  compromise  with 
its  wrath.  He  conceived  hiinselMo  be  the  cham- 
pionj)f  royalty  andoFthe  Catholic  faith  fand  which 
predommatedTnTTis  mind  il^Tolmportance  may  well 
remain  a  question.  But  both,  as  he  thought,  were 
necessary  to  their  own  reciprocal  existence  ;  they 
were  twin-sisters,  bound  together  by  mysterious  liga 
ments  which  could  not  be  severed  without  fatal 
results  to  both.  His  mission  was  to  keep  the  crown 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  15 

as  sacred  as  the  tiara ;  his  duty  was  to  protect  the 
Catholic  faith  throughout  the  world  ;  and,  the  better 
to  accomplish  it,  he  probably  deemed  it  a  holy  pur 
pose,  not  only  to  preserve  intact  his  hereditary 
dominions,  but  also  to  extend  his  sway  as  far 
as  possible  for  the  destruction  of  heresy.  The 
maintenance  and  extension  of  his  power  was  but 
the  maintenance  and  extension  of  the  true  Church, 
which  had  been  specially  established  for  the  service 
and  the  glory  of  God.  Hence  any  word  which 
he  pledged  in  his  worldly  wisdom  to  the  enemies  of 
the  Church,  and  of  the  monarchy  which  his  person 
represented,  was  null  and!  void,  unless  it  was  sub 
servient  to  the  interests  of  that  Church  and  of  that 
monarchy.  To  break  his  promise  under  such  cir 
cumstances  was  no  deceit.  To  remove  out  of  this 
world,  by  whatever  means,  any  human  being  whom 
he  conceived  to  be  dangerous  to  Church  and  to  roy 
alty,  was  a  meritorious  act.  This  man  was  as  much 
a  fanatic  in  his  appreciation  of  his  kingly  office  as 
in  matters  of  religion.  Hence  he,  without  compunc 
tion  or  hesitation,  swept  away  Egmont,  Horn, 
Orange,  and  so  many  others,  like  rubbish  in  the 
path  of  the  two  cherished  objects  of  his  veneration. 
Hence  he  once  publicly  said  that,  should  his  son 
be  convicted  of  heresy,  he  would  himself  bring 
fagots  to  the  burning  pile  into  which  he  would 
order  him  to  be  thrown.  We  are  afraid  that  there 
was  a  horrible  but  earnest  sincerity  in  his  crimes, 
an  awful  honesty  of  purpose  in  his  villainy,  a 


16  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

frightful  delusion  produced  by  the  sophistry  of 
iniquity,  which  assumed  in  his  mind  the  form  of 
the  logic  of  rectitude. 

These  were  probably  the  reasons  why  he  took  no 
pains  to  destroy,  as  he  could  easily  have  done,  the 
proofs  of  many  of  his  dark  deeds.  On  the  contrary, 
he  seems  to  have  been  indifferent  on  the  subject,  if 
not  solicitous  about  reducing  to  writing  all  that  was 
required  to  bring  them  before  posterity  in  their 
true  colors,  as  if  he  did  not  care  to  carry  the  decep 
tion  which  he  practiced  beyond  the  time  when  it 
was  necessary  for  the  success  of  his  political  pur 
poses.  From  these  circumstances  it  might  be  con 
cluded  that  he  considered  what  he  had  done  as 
legitimate  and  just,  or  at  least  as  a  warrantable 
exercise  of  the  attributes  of  sovereignty.  We  do 
not  believe  that  he  was  callous  to  shame  and  to  the 
opinion  of  future  ages.  He  was  naturally,  it  is  true, 
of  a  phlegmatic  temperament,  and  he  had  no  more 
heart  than  a  marble  statue.  But  if,  during  his 
whole  life,  he  generally  abstained  from  exhibiting 
any  signs  of  grief,  joy,  anger,  pity,  or  attachment, 
we  do  not  attribute  it  altogether  to  insensibility. 
It  may  also  have  originated  in  his  conviction  that 
he  was  too  far  exalted  above  the  common  race  of 
mortals  to  indulge  becomingly  in  such  feelings.  It 
would  have  been  beneath  the  dignity  and  the 
heavenly  calling  of  the  standard-bearer  of  the 
Church  and  of  the  grand  apostle  and  missionary  of 
royalty.  This  view  of  his  character  is  the  only  one 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  17 

which  to  our  conception  accounts  for  the  marvelous 
placidity  and  fortitude  of  his  death.  The  singular 
ity  of  such  a  self-deceiving  hallucination  is  no 
argument  against  the  possibility  of  its  existence, 
and  no  refutation  of  the  deductions  which  we  have 
drawn.  If  they  are  correct,  Philip  was  a  monster, 
but  a  monster  unconscious  of  the  whole  extent  of 
his  wickedness. 

He  had  begun  his  reign  as  the  most  powerful 
sovereign  of  Europe  by  the  vastness,  variety  and 
wealth  of  his  dominions,  as  well  as  by  his  political 
and  family  connections.  His  marriage  with  Mary 
of  England  had  given  him,  through  her,  consider 
able  influence  in  that  kingdom  ;  and  if  he  had  not 
inherited  the  imperial  sceptre  of  his  father,  he  may 
have  consoled  himself  with  the  reflection  that  it  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  his  uncle,  Ferdinand.  Philip 
had  always  entertained  the  most  profound  venera 
tion  and  admiration  for  his  father,  and  felt  for  him 
all  the  love  of  which  his  nature  was  susceptible. 
The  reproaches  of  filial  ingratitude  addressed  to 
him  by  some  historians  are  not  correct,  and  it  is 
now  demonstrated  that  he  seldom  ceased  to  be  guided 
by  the  advice  of  the  hermit  of  Yuste,  which  he  even 
frequently  sought  with  due  deference.  The  policy 
and  designs  of  Charles  were,  after  his  death,  fully 
adopted  and  continued  by  his  son,  but  with  such 
difference  in  the  ways  and  means  as  necessarily 
resulted  from  their  opposite  characters.  Both  had 
talents  of  the  highest  order,  a  cool  judgment,  a  far- 


18  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

reaching  perspicacity,  and  a  clear  insight  into  men 
and  things.  Both  constituted  themselves  the  repre 
sentatives  of  Catholicity  arid  of  religious  unity. 
But  here  ended  the  resemblance  ;  if  there  was 
similarity  of  purpose,  there  was  dissimilitude  of 
action  ;  and  it  could  not  be  otherwise.  Charles  was 
a  native  of  Flanders,  where  he  had  been  educated. 
As  such,  and  in  his  habits,  tastes  and  predilections, 
he  was  uncongenial  to  the  Spaniards,  whose  language 
he  did  not  even  speak.  By  them  he  was  looked 
upon  as  a  foreigner,  to  whom,  by  the  accident  of 
birth,  they  unfortunately  owed  allegiance.  He,  on 
the  other  hand,  did  not  love  Spain  ;  like  William  of 
Orange,  the  Batavian  restorer  of  the  liberties  of 
England  in  a  later  age,  he  never  could  divest  him 
self  of  his  Dutch  partialities  ;  whilst  Philip,  who 
was  as  intensely  Spanish  as  any  of  the  most  idolized 
heroes  of  Castile,  where  he  was  born,  was  disliked 
by  his  Flemish  subjects,  whose  idiom  he  did  not 
even  condescend  to  know  ;  and  yet  Philip,  although 
a  Spaniard,  was  as  cold-blooded  and  phlegmatic  as 
any  Fleming,  whilst  Charles,  a  Fleming,  had  all  the 
vivacity  and  warm  impulses  of  the  Spanish  tempera 
ment.  It  had  the  appearance  of  a  capricious  freak 
of  nature,  or  it  looked  as  if  their  cradles  had  been 
accidentally  misplaced  ;  perhaps  it  was  providential ; 
for  if  Philip  had  been  like  Charles,  it  is  probable 
that  the  events  which  led  to  the  independence  of 
the  Netherlands  would  not  have  taken  place,  at 
least  under  his  reign.  Charles  would  not  have 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  19 

remained  in  Spain,  like  Philip,  as  motionless  as  an 
incrustation  in  the  Escorial,  when  threatened  with 
the  loss  of  those  provinces.  He  would  have  gone 
in  person  to  remove  their  discontents.  He  was 
free,  open,  and  captivating  in  his  manners  ;  he 
adapted  himself,  when  he  chose,  to  localities  and 
nationalities  ;  he  was,  as  it  were,  a  cosmopolite. 
Philip  was  repulsive,  sombre,  taciturn,  fond  of 
isolation,  and  destitute  of  human  sympathies. 
Charles  was  a  meteor  which  warmed  the  atmos 
phere  through  which  it  winged  its  course.  Philip 
was  an  iceberg  which  would  have  congealed  even 
the  gentlest  tropical  waves.  The  Emperor  was  an 
ambulatory  statesman,  who  seemed  to  draw  inspira 
tion  from  the  perpetual  motion  in  which  he  rejoiced  ; 
the  King,  equally  as  politic,  was  a  fixture  in  his  own 
cabinet,  and  the  sluggishness  of  his  body  seemed  to 
impart  more  restless  activity  to  his  mind.  Charles 
was  indefatigable  in  all  corporal  exercises  as  befit 
ted  a  fearless  knight,  a  skillful  warrior,  who  delight 
ed  in  danger  and  in  the  clash  of  arms  ;  Philip, 
physically  indolent,  was  so  averse  to  the  stern  joys 
of  martial  life,  that  his  courage  was  even  suspected. 
Charles  was  ambitious  of  governing  the  world,  and 
would  have  wished,  if  possible,  to  have  been  present 
at  the  same  time  in  all  its  parts.  He  seemed  to 
have  thought  that  the  imperial  purple  required  of 
him  the  ubiquity  of  God.  But  if  the  father  held  the 
sword  with  the  ever-ready  hand  of  a  hero,  the  son, 
who  never  drew  one  from  its  scabbard,  and  for  whom 


20  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

it  was  a  useless  appendage,  had  a  scribe's  passion  for 
wielding  the  pen,  and  aspired  to  rule  Europe  from  the 
c^ll  of  a  monastery.  Charles  dictated  laws  in  person 
to  every  country  in  Europe  which  he  had  inherited  or 
conquered  ;  Philip  sent  them  from  his  writing-desk. 
The  Emperor  issued  face  to  face  with  his  enemies 
those  mandates  which  intimidated  them.  They 
saw  the  flash  of  his  eye,  the  motion  of  his  lips  ; 
they  heard  the  deep  intonations  of  the  Caesar's 
voice.  The  King,  like  one  of  the  hideous  idols  of 
India,  hidden  from  the  sight  of  his  subjects  in  a 
sanctuary,  terrified  the  earth  by  decrees  which  came 
from  an  invisible  source.  The  father  was  the  light 
ning  shooting  from  one  extremity  of  the  horizon  to 
the  other,  and  striking  with  Olympian  power  and 
majesty.  The  son  was  a  grim-looking  engine, 
riveted  to  one  spot,  but  flinging  afar  its  missiles. of 
death.  The  father,  like  the  gods  of  Homer,  seemed 
in  a  few  strides  to  overcome  distance  over  land  and 
sea.  The  son,  relentless  and  fixed  as  fate,  in'  the 
gloom  of  his  half-royal  and  half-monkish  residence, 
ran  his  finger  over  a  map,  and  marked  the  spot 
where  desolation  was  to  alight.  Wherever  there 
was  a  grand  public  assembly  in  Europe,  a  Diet,  a 
Congress,  or  a  Council,  there  was  Charles.  Person 
ating  the  genius  of  diplomacy,  Philip  sent  abroad 
his  ambassadors,  and  those  agents  of  his  subtle  mind 
and  iron  will  felt  that  their  master,  wrapped  up  in 
mystery  and  seclusion  in  his  impenetrable  retreat, 
knew  more  than  they  did  of  the  business  which 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  21 

they  had  to  manage  and  of  the  men  with  whom  they 
had  to  deal,  notwithstanding  the  boasted  knowledge 
and  varied  experience  which  they  thought  they  had 
acquired  in  their  constant  contact  with  the  world. 

But,  in  our  opinion,  notwithstanding  his  natural 
and  acquired  qualifications,  which  are  beyond  dis 
pute,  notwithstanding  his  astuteness,  his  cultivated 
mind,  his  profound  knowledge  of  men  and  of  the 
secrets  of  courts,  Philip  was  far  from  being  a  great 
statesman.     He  was  inferior  to  Cardinal  Ximenes, 
to  his  ancestor  Ferdinand,  the  conqueror  of  Grana 
da,  to  Eichelieu,  who  ruled  France  in  the  beginning 
of  the  next  century,  and  who  was  fully  his  match 
in  cruelty,  vindictiveness,  and  dissimulation.     The 
vision  of  his  intellect  was  like  that  of  the  lynx.     He 
could  see  with  wonderful  distinctness  through  dark 
ness,  when  crouching  to  spring  upon  the  prey  of 
vulgar  ambition.     But  he  had  no  soul  to  soar  on  its 
wings  to  that  altitude  where  alone,  in  the  full  efful 
gence  of  the  sun,  a  broad  and  comprehensive  eagle- 
eyed  view  of  the  horizon  can  be  taken.     In  one 
thing  he  excelled  :   it  was  in  what  was  called,  in 
those  days,  king-craft ;  and  he  was  the  perfection  of 
incarnated  despotism,  without  that  genius  in  whose 
companionship  its  savage  features  sometimes  lose 
their   terrors,   without   those    amiable    or  brilliant 
traits  of  character  which  seduce,  and  without  the 
halo  of  those  heroic  achievements  which  dazzle  into 
submission.     Crafty,  saturnine,  atrabilious,  always 
dissembling  and  suspecting,  sombre  and  silent  like 


22  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

night  when  brooding  over  the  hatching  storm,  he 
lived  shrunk  within  himself  with  the  only  fellowship 
of  his  gloomy  thoughts  and  cruel  resolves.  His 
memory  was  prodigious  j  he  never  forgot  a  name 
which  he  had  once  heard,  or  a  fact  which  had  once 
come  to  his  knowledge.  His  industry  could  not  be 
surpassed  ;  always  at  work,  always  ready  to  dis 
patch  business,  he  was  as  attentive  to  the  most 
insignificant  as  to  the  most  important.  Immov 
able  in  his  convictions,  never  swerving  from  his 
designs,  unscrupulous  in  the  means  of  accomplishing 
his  objects,  indifferent  to  those  pleasures  which  have 
charms  for  most  men,  free  from  all  passions  save 
one,  or  at  least  if  he  had  any,  holding  them,  like 
everything  else,  in  a  state  of  servitude  to  his  will, 
dead  to  compassion,  insensible  to  flattery,  inaccess 
ible  to  surprise,  the  paragon  of  caution,  ever  master 
of  himself  to  be  the  master  of  others,  as  cautelous 
and  wily  as  a  Jesuit,  as  reticent  of  secrets  as  the 
priest  is  of  the  confessions  of  his  penitents,  as  silent 
as  a  Carthusian  Friar,  this  man  could  not  but  domi 
neer  over  all  who  came  within  his  reach,  and  be 
proof  against  any  influence  over  his  own  mind  or 
heart.  Nature  and  education  had  destined  him  to 
be  the  impersonation  of  absolutism. 

So  absorbing  was  his  love  of  power,  so  intense 
his  distrust  of  others,  that  it  made  him  accomplish 
prodigies  to  escape  the  necessity  of  being  dependent 
on  anybody  but  himself.  IIe__^pir^dJo_d^_^very- 
thing  ;  there  were  no  details  too  trifling  for  him  to 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  23 

descend  to  ;  he  would  prescribe  where  capital  let 
ters  were  to  be  used  in  ministerial  dispatches, 
correct  the  orthography  and  even  alter  the  shape  of 
a  letter,  so  as  to  make  it  conform  to  his  own  taste  in 
calligraphy.  He  would  direct  what  ceremonial  was 
to  be  adopted  in  written  communications  to  individ 
uals  according  to  their  rank,  what  type,  and  what 
ink,  red,  black,  or  blue,  were  proper  for  the  print 
ing  of  certain  prayer-books,  what  habiliments  were 
to  be  worn  by  priests  on  particular  occasions.  He 
would  dwell  on  other  minutiae  entirely  unworthy 
of  the  attention  of  a  great  sovereign,  whose  time 
ought  to  be  too  precious  to  be  frittered  away  on 
such  fooleries,  and  who  ought  to  remember  that  it  is 
not  in  keeping  with  the  majesty  and  attributes  of 
Jupiter  to  be  catching  flies  like  an  idle  peasant-boy. 
But  in  his  mania  forjniling  everv_wbere.  in  high  and 
low  places,  and  on  all  occasions,  in  his  morbid  love 
of  power  and  of  its  exercise  even  about  trifles,  he 
could  not  refrain  from  displaying  a  ravenous  appe 
tite  which  would  have  disputed  even  dry  bones  with 
a  dog.  He  reminds  us  of  an  eddy  which  with  equal 
greediness  swallows  up  the  ponderous  beam,  and 
the  hardly  perceptible  straw  floating  on  the  water. 
With  such  a  disposition  on  the  part  of  Philip,  it  may 
well  be  supposed  that  his  ministers  were  mere 
clerks.  True  it  is  that  he  seldom  came  to  any  reso 
lution  without  consulting  them,  and  listening  long 
and  patiently  to  what  they  had  to  say.  But  after 
having  submitted  their  thoughts  to  the  process  of  a 


24  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

slow  digestion,  he  elaborated  them  into  resolves 
which  were  emphatically  his  own.  It  was  his  hand 
which  worked  the  complicated  machinery  of  the 
administration  of  his  immense  dominions  in  the  Old 
and  in  the  New  World.  No  State  business  was 
transacted  without  undergoing  the  scrutiny  of  his 
ever  vigilant  and  sleepless  attention.  The  royal 
autographs  are  so  numerous  as  to  beggar  belief ;  and 
one  wonders  how  he  could  find  time  to  give  so  much 
occupation  to  his  pen.  He  made  it  a  rule  to  read 
all  the  government  dispatches,  whether  sent  or 
received,  and  most  of  them  were  either  corrected, 
modified,  or  copiously  annotated  by  himself.  He 
never  moved  from  one  place  to  another  without 
being  accompanied  by  a  portfolio  full  of  papers  ;  and 
even  with  the  private  secretary  who  waited  on  his 
person  he  preferred  communicating  in  writing, 
rather  than  verbally.  It  probably  gave  him  time  to 
reflect,  and  suited  his  cautious  nature. 

Philip  had  established  a  vast  net- work  of  espion 
age,  not  only  in  his  own  dominions,  but  also  over 
the  whole  of  the  civilized  world.  He  knew  the  ma 
noeuvres,  intrigues,  interests,  and  plans  of  foreign 
courts,  long  before  he  was  informed  of  them  b}r  his 
accredited  ambassadors,  and  those  very  ambassa 
dors  who  sent  him  minute  dispatches  about  the 
influence  which  governed  a  cabinet,  or  about  the 
weak  side  of  the  prince  near  whom  they  resided, 
were  themselves  the  objects  of  confidential  commu 
nications  from  other  sources  about  their  own  doings, 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  25 

and  about  the  accuracy  or  incorrectness  of  the 
information  which  they  transmitted.  He  had 
agents,  sub-agents,  and  counter-agents,  innumerable 
spies  unknown  to  each  other,  reporting  on  the  same 
subject,  and  working  like  wheels  within  wheels.  All 
those  who  watched  for  him  were  also  closely  watch 
ed.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  the  personal 
affairs,  the  private  interests,  the  virtues  or  vices, 
the  inclinations,  the  aspirations  and  the  plans  of  all 
the  leaders  of  the  insurrection  in  Flanders  ;  with  the 
qualifications  and  resources  of  every  pretender  to 
the  crown  of  France  ;  with  the  physical,  moral  and 
intellectual  imperfections  or  perfections  of  every 
aspirant  to  the  hand  of  Elizabeth  of  England  ;  with 
the  qualities,  foibles  and  circumstances  of  every 
cardinal,  or  of  any  one  who  exercised  any  influence 
at  the  court  of  Borne,  and  of  all  those  who  were  to 
be  members  of  a  Council  in  which  the  affairs,  or 
dogmas  of  the  Catholic  Church  were  to  be  discussed 
and  settled.  But  his  information  was  infinitely 
more  varied,  minute  and  extensive  on  many  sub 
jects  of  much  less  importance,  and  this  searching 
inquisition  on  his  part  was  carried  so  far  that  it  can 
hardly  be  realized.  Thus  every  applicant  for  office, 
even  of  inferior  degree,  was  amazed  to  discover  that 
he  was  thoroughly  known  to  the  King,  and  that  juve 
nile  errors  which  he  thought  to  be  secret,  or  long 
since  forgotten,  had  found  their  way  to  him,  and 
had  not  been  dismissed  from  his  tenacious  memory. 
Like  a  gigantic  spider,  motionless  and  terrific  in 


26  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

its  apparent  lethargy,  Philip  in  his  closet  felt  the 
slightest  percussion  which  struck  the  extremities  of 
any  one  of  the  threads  of  the  web  which  he  had 
spread  to  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe.  He  seem 
ed  to  be  omniscient,  to  be  all  ears  and  eyes  ;  and  no 
man  was  ever  more  competent  to  avail  himself  of 
such  an  advantage,  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  into 
steady  execution  this  favorite  maxim  of  Machiavel- 
ian  policy  :  "  Divide  in  order  to  rule."  He  hoarded 
power  with  as  much  miserly  avidity  as  Shylock  did 
money,  and,  like  the  Jew  of  Venice,  he  did  not 
scruple  to  exact,  for  its  accumulation,  the  pound  of 
flesh  nearest  the  heart,  both  from  his  subjects  and 
his  enemies.  Thus,  as  the  supreme  power  was  a 
thing  which,  with  a  man  of  his  temperament,  admit 
ted  of  no  partnership,  he  completed  the  destruction 
of  the  liberties  of  Spain  which  his  father  had  already 
begun.  {Charles  had  reduced  the  Cortes  to  a  mere 
matter  of  form  and  ceremony,  to  a  delusive  pagean 
try.  Philip  made  them  an  object  of  contempt?] 
Charles  had  prostrated  at  Yillalar  the  ancient  priv 
ileges,  immunities  and  franchises  of  his  subjects 
which  Padilla  had  dared  to  advocate  with  arms  in  his 
hands.  Philip  extinguished  them  in  the  blood  of  Lanuza 
in  Aragon.  On  that  day,  the  axe  of  the  executioner 
consecrated  him  absolute  King  of  Spain  and  the  Indies. 
Philip  used  to  abstain  from  presiding  at  the 
meetings  of  his  Cabinet,  in  order  that  his  presence 
should  not  check  the  unguarded  manifestations  of 
views  or  passions  which  might  occasionally  be 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  27 

elicited  by  the  heat  of  discussion  ;  but  the  individ 
ual  who  happened  to  be  commissioned  to  make  an 
official  report  of  the  ministerial  proceedings,  would 
not  unfrequently  discover  that  the  Prince  was  already 
informed  of  all  that  had  occurred  in  the  Council. 
When  he  chose  to  be  present  at  their  deliberations, 
he  took  an  incredible  quantity  of  notes,  and  when 
he  was  satisfied  with  the  abundance  of  his  materials, 
he  withdrew  without  expressing  either  approbation 
or  blame,  or  letting  his  councilors  know  which 
advice  he  was  inclined  to  favor.  His  dissimulation 
was  such  that  he  would  even  dupe  his  ministers, 
and,  for  some  purpose  of  deception  best  known  to 
himself,  would  lay  before  them,  at  times,  only 
garbled  fragments  of  dispatches,  suppressing  what 
would  have  put  in  its  proper  light  that  which  he 
presented  to  them  ;  or  he  would  submit  to  their  con 
sideration  certain  documents  which  he  had  muti 
lated,  or  slyly  altered  to  suit  his  views.  Any  man 
of  common  honesty  and  understanding  would  call  it 
forgery,  but  it  is  probable  that  it  went  by  another 
name  in  Philip's  vocabulary.  The  leaders  in  his 
Cabinet  were  the  Duke  of  Alva  and  Euy  Gomez, 
prince  of  Eboli.  He  liked  to  see  them  pitted  against 
each  other,  and  took  care  to  encourage  their"  fierce 
rivalry,  raising  and  depressing  them  in  turn,  but 
cautious  how  he  gave  preponderance  to  one  over 
the  other.  Thus,  these  grave  and  puissant  person 
ages  were  kept  engaged  at  a  play,  which  is  the  com 
mon  amusement  of  children.  Placed  at  each  end 


28  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

of  a  board  or  plank,  they  moved  alternately  at  see 
saw  up  and  down,  according  to  the  impulsion  given 
by  Philip.  Sometimes,  as  shown  by  the  correspond 
ence  of  Antonio  Perez  with  Escovedo,  he  would,  in 
order  to  entrap  suspected  persons,  authorize  one  of 
his  ministers  to  feign  to  betray  him,  to  communicate 
pretended  State  secrets,  and  even  to  write  very 
abusively  of  his  person.  What  a  singular  scene  is 
offered  to  us  when  we  see  Antonio  Perez  reading 
to  Philip  letters  in  which  he  treated  his  royal  mas 
ter  with  very  little  respect,  and  that  royal  master 
writing  in  a  marginal  note,  "  Good — very  good  /" 
or,  "  Something  more  pointed  might  be  added  to  make 
the  thing  more  effective  !"  It  was  a  peculiarity  with 
him  that  he  retained  in  office  men  who  had  long  lost 
his  confidence  and  whom  he  hated  intensely.  He 
disliked  change  in  those  whom  he  employed,  and  it 
was  impossible  for  them  to  discover  when  they  had 
forfeited  his  favor.  None  save  one,  and  that  was 
Antonio  Perez,  could  cope  with  him  in  the  courtly 
art  of  disguising  feelings  and  thoughts  ;  and  the 
iron  mask  which  he  wore  was  proof  against  the 
penetration  of  his  ministers  and  courtiers.  It  was 
when  the  tiger's  paw  was  as  smooth  as  velvet  that 
the  lacerating  claws  suddenly  came  out ;  it  was 
when  a  smile  was  on  the  lips,  when  benignity  was 
in  the  eye,  when  the  apparently  friendly  hand  rested 
on  the  trusty  shoulder,  that  the  fatal  blow  was 
struck  which  showed  the  long-cherished  malignity 
of  the  heart.  There  is  something  terrific  in  the 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  29 

secrecy,  dissimulation  and  dogged  perseverance 
with  which  Philip  would,  during  a  series  of  years, 
meditate  and  prepare  the  destruction  of  one  man, 
or  of  a  whole  population,  and  something  still  more 
awful  in  the  icy  indifference,  the  superhuman  in 
sensibility,  the  accumulated  cold-blooded  energy  of 
hoarded-up  vengeance  with  which,  at  the  opportune 
moment,  he  would  issue  a  dry  sentence  of  extermi 
nation.  Friend,  brother,  son,  were  empty  and 
unmeaning  words  which  imposed  upon  him  no 
obligation  of  love  or  protection.  Patiently,  and,  as 
it  were,  luxuriously  chewing  the  cud  of  his  resent 
ment,  he  seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  distilling, 
slowly  and  chemically,  the  poison  which,  Python- 
like,  he  darted  at  every  object  which  he  detested  or 
feared,  or  which  he  considered  an  obstacle  in  his 
path.  The  minute  instructions  which,  in  his  own 
handwriting,  he  sent  to  the  hangman  who  was  to 
strangle  Montigny  in  his  prison,  and  which  were 
intended  to  make  the  death  of  that  nobleman  appear 
natural,  produce  in  us  a  shivering  of  horror.  A 
king  teaching  his  trade  to  Jack  of  the  gallows ! 
The  following  laconic  dispatch  which  he  forwarded 
to  another  minister  of  his  wrath,  "  Take  Lanuza 
and  promptly  cut  off  his  head,"  is  another  striking 
characteristic  of  the  man,  particularly  when  it  is 
remembered  that  Lanuza  had  done  nothing  but  his 
duty  as  a  magistrate  in  attempting  to  resist  the 
encroachments  of  the  tyrant  on  the  old  constitutional 
liberties  of  his  subjects. 


30  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 


CHAPTEK   II. 

ONE  of  the  grand  objects  of  Philip's  life,  as  he 
professed,  was  the  suppression  of  heresy  ;  but  he 
did  not  pursue  it  with  the  zealous  disinterestedness 
of  a  missionary  working  solely  for  the  salvation  of 
the  converted,  or  with  the  candid  fervor  of  an  apos 
tle  of  truth.  ^His  purpose  was  entirely  selfish.  He 
proceeded  in  his  assumed  mission  with  the  cold  cal 
culations  of  a  mathematician.  Catholicity  was  the 
lever  of  Archimedes  with  which  he  intended  to  raise 
the  world  from  its  foundations,  and  make  it  assume 
the  position  which  he  chose.  He  took  care,  how 
ever,  that  the  service  of  God  should  lead  to  the 
aggrandizement  of  his  dominions,  and  that  religious 
fanaticism  should  never  be  permitted  to  work  to  the 
detriment  of  his  temporal  power.  He  was  ready  to 
extirpate  the  heresy  which  agitated  Europe,  by 
helping  everywhere  the  Catholics  against  the  Prot 
estants  ;  but  it  was  to  become  the  master  of  both 
Protestants  and  Catholics.  The 


faith  was  to  be  first  imposed,  in  order  to  arrive  at 
the  unity  of  political  authority.  He  had  constituted 
himself  the  defender  of  the  Eoman  Church,  and 
as  long  as  the  Pope  would  favor  his  designs,  he  was 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  31 

profuse  in  blandishments,  and  professed  to  be  his 
dutiful  son.  But  whenever  the  Pontiff  ceased  to  be 
a  pliant  tool,  Philip  treated  him  with  great  harsh 
ness,  and  seemed  to  approve  and  enjoy  the  insults 
which  his  ambassadors  and  generals  heaped  on  the 
Yicar  of  Christ.  Papal  displeasure  and  Papal  ex 
communications  had  no^terrors  for  him,  although  he 
wisjied  themjo_be  dre^dej3]^by_others  ;  and  he  was 
willing  to  support  the  encroachments  of  'the  Holy 
See  against  every  sovereign  except  himself.  Hie 
firstwa£,  on  his  ascending  the  throne,  was  against 
the  Pope,  after  his  having  fortified  his^nscienceHBy 
fhe  cTecision  of  a  body  of  tfteologmns  and  of  jurists 
from  his  several  Councils.  Some  years  afterward, 
in  1578,  he  wrote  as,  follows  to  the  Marquis  of  Las 
Navas,  his  ambassador  at  Rome  :  "  You  will  give 
His  Holiness  to  understand  that,  according  to  the 
opinion  of  our  councilors  and  canonists,  who  have 
put  my  conscience  at  rest  on  that  point,  the  Prince 
is  not  obliged  to  conform  to  the  mandates  of  the 
Pope  in  temporal  affairs,  and  that  His  Holiness,  in 
thus  travelling  out  of  his  spiritual  jurisdiction, 
exposes  the  Holy  Apostolic  See  to  be  treated  with 
little  respect,  which,  in  these  days  and  under  pres 
ent  circumstances,  should  be  carefully  avoided  by 
His  Holiness."  The  fact  is,  that  the  temporal  power 
of  the  sovereign,  as  Philip  understood  it,  was  always 
sure  to  conflict  with  the  spiritual  rights  of  the  Pope 
whenever  it  suited  Philip's  policy.  For  instance, 
he  was  inflexible  in  not  permitting  any  pontifical 


32  PHILIP  II.    OF    SPAIN. 

bull  to  be  published  in  his  kingdom  of  Naples  and 
Sicily,  and  in  his  Duchy  of  Milan,  much  less  in  Spain, 
without  being  examined  and  approved  by  him.  The 
Pope  would  remonstrate,  and  maintain  that  those 
bulls  only  concerned  ecclesiastical  affairs ;  but 
Philip,  with  a  pertinacity  which  was  always  success 
ful  in  the  end,  would  contend  that  there  was  some 
point  in  those  ecclesiastical  affairs  which  touched 
the  temporal,  and  threw  the  whole,  as  being  insepar 
ably  blended,  within  his  own  jurisdiction.  The 
"  rights  of  the  crown"  (las  regalias  de  la  corona), 
as  he  conceived  them,  were  rather  of  unlimited 
length,  breadth  and  depth,  and  armed  with  so  keen 
an  edge,  that  they  never  failed  to  clip  and  shorten 
the  long  fingers  of  the  Church  whenever  they  came 
in  contact.  At  times  he  would  even  lecture  the  suc 
cessor  of  St.  Peter  with  the  asperity  of  a  disciple 
of  Luther  ;  for  when  the  Pope  wished  to  establish 
in  Spain  the  military  order  of  St.  Lazarus,  with 
extraordinary  privileges  and  immunities,  Philip 
wrote  to  Don  Luis  de  Requesens,  his  ambassador  in 
Rome,  a  communication  which  was  to  be  shown  to 
the  Pope,  and  in  which  he  said  :  "  that  the  creation 
and  multiplication  of  so  many  religious  orders  had 
been  already  an  odious  thing  in  the  Church,  and 
was  reproved  by  the  old  canons  ;  that  if  this  was 
true  in  relation  to  the  ordinary  monastic  and  other 
ecclesiastical  orders,  it  was  still  truer  in  application 
to  those  of  a  military  character  ;  that  the  baleful 
consequence  of  it  was  to  withdraw  individuals  from 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  33 

the  regular  jurisdiction  of  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical 
laws  which  governed  the  community  at  large  ;  that 
the  object  of  such  creations  was  the  making  of  money 
by  selling  privileges,  immunities  and  exemptions  ; 
that  such  a  course  was  unworthy  of  the  Holy  See  ; 
that  it  was  the  scandal  of  the  world  ;  that  such 
policy  was  rotten  in  its  very  roots,  and  therefore  no 
wholesome  fruit  could  be  expected  from  it  ;  that  it 
was  not  within  the  legitimate  authority  of  the  Holy 
See  to  withdraw  from  the  jurisdiction  of  princes 
such  of  their  subjects  as  it  might  choose  ;  that 
those  princes  could  not,  in  reason,  permit  it  ;  that 
there  was  neither  justice  nor  honesty  in  such  pro 
ceedings  ;  and  that  religion,  on  such  occasions,  was 
a  mere  pretext  to  serve  other  purposes."  When 
the  Council  of  Trent,  which  had  been  adjourned, 
was  to  meet  again,  the  Pope  insisted  on  its  being  a 
new  convocation.  Philip  wanted  it  to  be  called  a 
"  continuation"  of  the  Council.  It  gave  rise  to  long 
discussions,  during  which  Philip  treated  the  Pope 
so  rudely  that  the  Holy  Father  was  frightened  into 
a  compliance  with  the  King's  wishes. 

He  had  a  passion  and  a  veneration  for  monks  ;  he 
liked  to  be  surrounded  by  them,  but  he  never  failed 
to  have  them  strangled  if  they  threw  any  obstacle 
in  his  way.  Although  a  most  zealous  advocate  and 
supporter  of  the  interests  of  the  Clergy,  he  did  not 
scruple  to  take  one  half  of  their  revenues  whenever 
it  was  required  by  his  wants.  It  pleased  him  to 
keep  up  in  that  Clergy  a  spirit  of  opposition  to  the 

3 


34  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

pretensions  of  the  Holy  See,  and  he  generally  pro 
moted  those  who  had  been  the  warmest  in  that  op 
position  ;  so  that,  whenever  he  was  at  variance  with 
Rome,  he  was  sure  of  being  supported  by  his  own 
clergy,  of  whom  he  may  be  said  to  have  been  the 
head,  much  more  than  the  Pope.  It  is  one  of  the 
inconsistencies  of  this  man's  character,  that,  fond  of 
monks  as  he  was,  he  was  opposed  to  the  increase  of 
religious  communities  or  associations  ;  that  he  con 
sidered  them  as  in  conflict  with  the  true  spirit  and 
ends  of  the  Church  ;  and  that  far  from  being  in 
favor  of  their  augmentation,  he  desired  their  reduc 
tion  to  the  old  and  primitive  number.  He  used  to 
say  that  piety  throughout  the  world  diminished  in 
proportion  to  the  increase  of  religious  orders.  He 
made  strenuous  efforts  to  curtail  those  that  were  in 
existence,  and  to  make  them  conform  to  the  severit}7 
of  the  ancient  by-laws  and  regulations.  He  was  a 
rigid  censor  of  the  morals  of  the  clergy,  and,  assisted 
by  his  prodigious  memory,  he  succeeded  in  keeping 
himself  accurately  informed,  not  only  of  the  names 
and  circumstances,  but  also  of  the  deportment  and 
capacity  of  every  member  of  that  numerous  clergy 
who  was  in  a  position  to  pretend  to  preferments  and 
dignities,  which  he  made  it  a  rule  to  grant  to  virtue 
and  learning  rather  than  to  birth  or  favoritism.  He 
had  established  an  Argus-like  police,  which  made 
him  acquainted  with  the  delinquencies  and  faults  of 
the  sacerdotal  order,  much  to  the  dismay  of  those 
who  knew  that  they  were  subjected  to  this  unsparing 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  35 

ordeal.  An  individual  had  been  repeatedly  and 
strongly  recommended  to  him  for  an  ecclesiastical 
dignity.  On  those  occasions  the  King  had  listened 
with  a  darker  shade  of  moroseness  on  his  face  than 
usual,  and  had  remained  silent.  At  last,  on  being 
pressed,  he  replied  with  a  withering  sneer:  "If 
we  make  him  a  bishop,  which  of  his  two  natural  sons 
will  inherit  the  dignity  after  his  death  ?"  On  an 
other  occasion,  the  Count  of  Chinchon,  for  whom 
he  professed  much  esteem,  was  urging  the  claim  of 
an  aspirant  to  an  Episcopal  See.  "  I  want  you 
first,"  said  the  king,  "  to  tell  me  what  your  candi 
date  has  done  with  that  son  he  had  when  a  student 
in  the  College  of  Salamanca."  It  may  well  be 
imagined  that  it  was  not  without  some  degree  of 
apprehension  that  he  was  approached  for  office  when 
the  applicant  was  received  with  such  home-thrusts. 
Although  Philip  kept  his  priesthood  well  bridled, 
and  never  permitted  them,  in  the  pulpit  or  elsewhere, 
to  interfere  beyond  what  he  thought  proper  with  the 
affairs  of  State,  he  allowed  them  occasionally  to 
take  more  personal  liberties  with  him  than  he  vouch 
safed  to  any  other  of  his  subjects.  His  High  Almoner, 
Don  Luis  Manrique,  once  wrote  to  him  in  the  fol 
lowing  bold  strain :  "  Your  Majesty's  subjects  every 
where  complain  of  your  manner  of  doing  business- 
sitting  all  day  long  over  your  papers,  from  your 
desire,  as  they  intimate,  to  seclude  yourself  from 
the  world,  and  from  a  want  of  confidence  in  your 
ministers.  Hence  such  interminable  delavs  as  fill 


36  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

the  soul  of  every  suitor  with  despair.  Your  sub 
jects  are  discontented,  because  you  refuse  to  take 
your  seat  in  the  Council  of  State.  The  Almighty 
does  not  send  kings  into  the  world  to  spend  their 
days  in  reading  or  writing,  or  even  in  meditation 
and  prayer,  but  to  serve  as  public  oracles  to  which 
all  may  resort  for  answers.  If  any  sovereign  has 
received  this  grace,  it  is  your  Majesty  ;  and  there 
fore  the  greater  the  sin,  if  you  do  not  give  free 
access  to  all.'7  Philip  bore  patiently  with  this  lec 
ture  on  his  royal  duties,  and  it  is  the  more  remark 
able  from  the  circumstance,  that,  from  his  boyhood, 
he  had  shown  a  disposition  to  wince  under  the  ad 
ministering  of  any  rebuke  from  those  preceptors  to 
whose  care  his  education  had  been  intrusted,  as  we 
see  by  an  admirable  letter  written  to  him  by  the 
emperor  his  father  in  support  of  old  Zuniga,  who 
used  to  speak  his  mind  too  frankly  for  the  taste  of 
his  pupil.  "  If  he  deals  plainly  with  you/'  wrote 
Charles  to  Philip,  "it  is  for  the  love  he  bears  you. 
If  he  were  to  flatter  you,  and  be  only  solicitous  to 
minister  to  your  wishes,  he  would  be  like  all  the  rest 
of  the  world,  and  you  would  have  no  one  near  you 
to  tell  you  the  truth  ;  and  a  worse  thing  cannot 
happen  to  any  man,  old  or  young,  but  most  of  all  to 
the  young,  from  their  want  of  experience,  which 
prevents  them  from  discerning  truth  from  errer." 
The  natural  haughtiness  of  Philip's  temper  was  such 
that  there  was  very  little  chance  of  his  profiting  by 
this  paternal  admonition.  A  striking  proof  of  this 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  37 

disposition  was  given  by  him  at  Augsburg,  in  Ger 
many,  during  his  father's  life,  as  related  by  Prescott/ 
"  When  Charles  returned  to  his  palace,  escorted,  as 
he  usually  was,  by  a  train  of  nobles  and  princes  of 
the  empire,  he  would  courteously  take  them  by  the 
hand,  and  raised  his  hat  as  he  parted  with  them. 
But  Philip,  it  was  observed,  on  like  occasions, 
walked  directly  into  the  palace,  without  so  much  as 
turning  round,  or  condescending,  in  any  way,  to  no 
tice  the  courtiers  who  had  accompanied  him.  This 
was  taking  higher  ground  than  even  his  father 
had  done.  In  fact,  it  was  said  of  him  that  he  con 
sidered  himself  greater  than  his  father,  inasmuch 
as  the  son  of  an  Emperor  was  greater  than  the  son 
of  a  King."  Such  a  man  was  not  apt  to  listen  meekly 
to  any  unpalatable  truths,  or  to  be  patient  of  control, 
or  even  of  guidance,  from  whatever  source  it  was 
offered,  unless  at  rare  intervals,  probably  for  effect, 
or,  perhaps,  to  serve  some  purpose  of  his  own,  if  it 
was  not  because,  among  the  cloying  dishes  which 
flattery  served  up  to  him  daily,  it  was  a  relish  for 
him  to  find  one  occasionally  seasoned  with  a  few 
grains  of  pungent  truth. 

Lafucnte,   the  Spanish  historian,  says,  probably 
with  truth,  that  Philip  would  have  invented  tliG  In-     . 
quisition  if  he  had  not  found  it  already  in  exist-  X 
ence.     He  made  that  bloody  tribunal  his  right  arm,     \ 
and  he  patronized  inquisitors,  provided  they  under 
stood  that  they  were  to  be  his  humble  and  obedient 
ministers.     To  their  jurisdiction  he  found  it  con- 


38  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

venient  to  turn  over  all  those  whose  ruin  he  could 
not  accomplish  with  as  much  ease  by  the  exercise 
of  secular  or  civil  authority.  They  had  nets  which 
no  hunted  game,  whatever  it  was,  could  hardly  hope 
to  escape.  This  terrific  institution,  in  the  hands  of 
Philip,  reminds  us  of  those  cells  in  Venetian  pris 
ons,  the  lateral  walls  and  the  vaults  of  which  were 
said  to  be  so  constructed  that  they  daily  closed 
tighter  round  a  doomed  victim,  gradually  depriving 
him  of  air  and  space,  until  they  finally  came  to 
gether  and  crushed  his  body  to  death.  But  when 
ever  the  Inquisition  endeavored  to  emancipate  itself 
from  the  leading-strings  in  which  it  was  put,  a  gentle 
paternal  slap  from  the  monarch  was  an  admonition 
which  warned  the  tool  to  remain  what  it  was,  and 
not  to  presume  to  be  the  head  or  even  the  hand. 
Thus,  in  1574,  the  Inquisition  had  resolved  to  estab 
lish  in  several  of  the  most  important  provinces  of 
Spain  a  military  Order,  under  the  name  of  "St. 
Mary  of  the  White  Sword."  This  Order  was  to  be 
composed  exclusively  of  men  whose  genealogy,  after 
the  most  severe  and  scrupulous  examination,  would 
show  them  descended  from  many  generations  of 
Christians  who  had  never  deviated  from  the  old 
Catholic  faith,  who  had  never  been  soiled  by  the 
impurities  of  new-fangled  doctrines,  and  whose  veins 
had  never  been  contaminated  by  the  admixture  of 
any  Moorish,  heretic,  or  Jewish  blood.  This  mi 
litia  was  to  be  governed  by  the  Inquisitor-General, 
and  to  be  the  Pretorian  guard  of  the  State  religion, 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  39 

and  its  members  were  to  be  exempt  from  any  other 
jurisdiction,  either  civil  or  royal.  Many  scions  of 
the  most  influential  and  noblest  families  of  Spain 
had  already  entered  the  Order,  and  a  petition  had 
been  laid  before  the  Sovereign  for  the  confirmation 
of  its  constitution  and  privileges,  when  Philip,  to 
use  a  homely  but  expressive  and  well-known  figura 
tive  saying,  "smelt  a  rat,"  and  immediately  crushed 
this  insidious  conspiracy  against  his  authority.  He 
ordered  all  the  papers  of  the  embryo  Order  to  be 
seized  ;  he  commanded  that,  for  the  future,  a  pro 
found  and  perpetual  silence  be  observed  in  relation 
to  the  contemplated  institution  ;  and  he  addressed 
to  all  religious  and  secular  corporations  a  circular, 
in  which  he  recommended  to  them  not  to  make 
themselves  uneasy  about  the  safety  and  purity 
of  the  true  faith,  because  it  was  his  duty,  in  the 
post  in  which  G-od  had  placed  him,  to  look  to  these 
matters,  giving  them  the  assurance,  at  the  same 
time,  that  he  would  fulfill  his  obligations  in  that 
respect  without  any  officious  assistance  which  he 
did  not  need.  If  he  was  satisfied  with  this  exhibi 
tion  of  displeasure,  and  did  not  inflict  actual  punish 
ment,  it  is  probably  because  he  did  not  choose  to 
weaken  an  instrument  which  he  found  so  useful  to 
his  purposes. 

Time  has  explained  some  of  the  acts  of  that  mys 
terious  man,  which  for  so  many  years  had  remained 
puzzling  riddles  for  those  who  studied  his  reign. 
For  instance,  his  contemporaries  were  amazed  that  a 


40  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

young  and  ambitious  sovereign,  after  the  battles  of 
St.  Quentin  and  Gravelines,  when  France  lay  at  his 
feet,  was  so  anxious  for  peace  as  to  assure  one  of  his 
negotiators,  the  Prince  of  Orange,  "that  the  great 
est  service  he  could  render  him  in  this  world  was  to 
make  peace,  arid  that  he  desired  to  have  it  at  any 
price  whatever,  so  eager  was  he  to  return  to  Spain." 
To  another  envoy  he  had  said  :  "  0  ambassador,  I 
wish  for  peace  on  any  terms,  and  if  the  King  of 
France  had  not  sued  for  it,  I  would  have  begged  for 
it  myself."  Charles  iho^  Fifth,  in  his  retreat  of  Yuste, 
was  convulsed  with  rage  when  he  learned  that  his 
son  had  lost  the  opportunity  to  march  to  Paris  after 
the  victory  of  St.  Quentin.  The  world  was  taken  by 
surprise,  and  wondered  why  the  King  of  Spain, 
in  the  midst  of  his  triumphs,  was  so  clamorous  for  a 
cessation  of  hostilities.  We  know  now  that  it  was 
because  Philip's  head  was  full  of  a  scheme  by  which 
he  was  to  prevail  upon  the  King  of  France  to  massa 
cre  all  the  Protestants  in  his  dominions,  at  the  same 
time  when  he,  Philip,  should  do  the  same  butcher's 
work  in  the  Netherlands.  Hence  he  had  been  most 
anxious  to  propitiate  his  royal  brother  of  France  by 
an  unexpectedly  advantageous  treaty  of  peace,  and 
he  gained  his  object,  since  Henry  the  Second  agreed 
to  the  proposed  wholesale  assassination,  which  was 
defeated  only  by  accidental  circumstances,  and  post 
poned  to  take  place  a  few  years  later,  under  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  Ninth.  Thus  Philip  stands  re 
vealed  to  posterity  as  the  real  author  of  the  St.  Bar- 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  41 

tholomew.  To  him  belongs  the  original  idea,  and  he 
cannot  justly  be  deprived  of  a  copyright  so  authen 
tically  and  in  due  form  registered  in  the  records  and 
under  the  great  seal  of  Hell. 

The  sudden  termination  of  the  war  with  the  Pope 
was  of  the  same  nature.  By  his  order  the  victori 
ous  Duke  of  Alva,  under  the  weight  of  whose  iron 
hand  Eome  had  tottered  to  its  foundations,  fell  at 
the  feet  of  the  Pope,  and  begged  his  absolution  for 
having  beaten  his  troops  and  insulted  his  person. 
It  was  in  vain  that  Alva  bitterly  exclaimed  that  the 
treaty  of  peace  which  he  was  instructed  to  grant 
u  seemed  to  have  been  dictated  by  the  vanquished 
rather  than  by  the  victor."  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
haughty  Duke  consoled  himself  with  this  remark  : 
"  Were  I  the  king,  His  Holiness  would  be  ordered 
to  send  one  of  his  nephews  to  ask  for  my  pardon, 
instead  of  my  General  suing  for  his."  It  was  in  vain 
that  Charles  Y.  at  Yuste,  when  he  heard  of  what  he 
thought  to  be  so  disgracfel  to  the  King,  was  beside 
himself  with  mortification  ;  it  was  in  vain  that  the 
recluse  Emperor  swore  with  the  coarse  energy 
of  a  trooper.  No  pride  or  vain-glory  could  have 
induced  Philip,  at  any  time  of  his  life,  to  step  one 
line  beyond  that  point  to  which,  and  no  further,  he 
thought  necessary  to  carry  that  policy  or  design 
which  he  had  at  heart.  On  the  occasion  to  which  I 
have  referred,  he  had  shown  that  he  could  be  driven 
into  the  painful  necessity  of  flagellating,  after  the 
fashion  of  savage  tribes,  the  idol  before  which  he 


42  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

knelt,  whenever  that  idol  should  become  trouble 
some,  or  deaf  to  his  pressing  entreaties.  That  was 
enough  ;  this  practical  warning  had  answered  his 
purpose  ;  and  he  would  go  no  further.  He  was  not 
the  man  to  weaken  the  Papacy,  when  the  main 
object  of  his  life,  and,  we  may  say,  his  fixed  and 
dominant  idea,  was  to  hunt  Protestantism  out  of  this 
world  with  all  the  hounds  which  he  could  muster  to 
his  assistance. 

)    We   believe   that  Philip   was   sincere,  when  he 
/asseverated  that  he  would  lose  a  hundred  lives,  if 
I  he  had  them,  rather  than  compromise  with  heresy. 
/We  believe  that  he  was  equally  sincere  when  he 
/  affirmed  that  he  would  lose  all  his  dominions  rather 
'  than  suffer  them  to  be  tainted  with  Protestantism, 
and   his   conduct   in   relation   to   the    Netherlands 
proves,  we  think,  that  sincerity  ;  for  he  would  have 
secured  the  allegiance  of  all  those  provinces,  if  he 
had  made  concessions  in  matters  of  religion.     We 
believe  that  he  was  sincere  when  he  wrote  to  the 
Emperor  of  Germany,  who  had  remonstrated  with 
him  on  his  treatment  of  the  Netherlands,  that  "he 
had  seen  with  the  deepest  sorrow  that  his  Imperial 
Majesty  wished  to  persuade  him  in  religious  matters 
to  proceed  with  mildness.     The  Emperor  ought  to 
be  aware,"  added  Philip,  "  that  no  human  consider 
ation,  no  regard  for  his  realms,  nothing  in  the  world 
which   could  be  represented  to  him,  or  risked  by 
him,    would    cause   him  to  swerve  a   single   hair's 
breadth  from  his  path  on  the  subject  of  religion. 


PHILIP    II.    OF    SPAIN.  43 

This  path  was  the  same  through  all  his  kingdoms. 
He  had  ever  trod  in  it  faithfully,  and  he  meant  to 
keep  in  it  perpetually.  He  would  admit  neither 
counsel  nor  persuasion  to  the  contrary,  and  would 
take  it  ill  if  counsel  or  persuasion  should  be  offer 
ed.  He  could  not  but  consider  the  terms  of  the 
instructions  given  to  the  Archduke  *  as  exceeding 
the  limits  of  amicable  suggestion.  They,  in  fact, 
amounted  to  a  menace,  and  he  was  astonished  that 
a  menace  should  be  employed,  because  with  princes 
constituted  like  himself  such  means  could  have  but 
little  succes's.f 

Motley,  in  his  admirable  History  of  the  Rise  of 
the  Dutch  Republic,  raises  doubts  on  the  earnestness 
of  Philip's  fanaticism  and  on  the  sincerity  of  his 
religious  convictions,  because  that  monarch,  as  he 
maintains,  was  willing  to  purchase  his  election  to 
the  imperial  throne  of  Germany,  which  his  father 
had  occupied,  by  abjuring  what  were  supposed  to  be 
his  most  cherished  principles.  "  Philip  of  Spain/' 
he  says,  "whose  mission  was  to  extirpate  heresy 
throughout  his  realms,  and  who,  in  pursuance  of  that 
mission,  had  already  perpetrated  more  crimes,  and 
waded  more  deeply  in  the  blood  of  his  subjects  than 
monarch  had  ever  done  before  ;  Philip,  for  whom 
his  apologists  have  never  found  any  defence,  save 
that  he  believed  it  his  duty  to  God  rather  to  de- 

*  One  of  the  Archdukes  of  the  German  Empire  had  been  sent  on  a 
special  mission  to  Philip. 

f  Motley's  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic,  p.  272,  vol.  II. 


44  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

populate  his  territories  than  to  permit  a  single 
heretic  within  their  limits,  now  entered  into  secret 
negotiations  with  the  Princes  of  the  Empire.  He 
pledged  himself,  if  they  would  confer  the  crown 
upon  him,  that  he  would  withdraw  the  Spaniards 
from  the  Netherlands  ;  that  he  would  tolerate  in 
those  provinces  the  exercise  of  the  reformed  relig 
ion  •  that  he  would  recognize  their  union  with  the 
rest  of  the  German  Empire,  and  ,their  consequent 
claim  to  the  benefits  of  the  Passau  treaty  ;  that  lie 
would  restore  the  Prince  of  Orange  and  'all  his  ac 
complices  ?  to  their  former  possessions,  dignities  and 
condition,  and  that  he  would  cause  to  be  observed, 
throughout  every  realm  incorporated  with  the  Em 
pire,  all  the  edicts  and  ordinances  which  had  been 
constructed  to  secure  religious  freedom  in  Germany. 
In  brief,  Philip  was  willing,  in  case  the  crown  of 
Charlemagne  should  be  promised  him,  to  undo  the 
work  of  his  life,  to  reinstate  the  arch-rebel  whom  he 
had  hunted  and  proscribed,  and  to  bow  before  that 
Reformation  whose  disciples  he  had  so  long  burned 
and  butchered.  So  much  extent  and  no  more  had 
that  religious  conviction  by  which  he  had  for  years 
the  effrontery  to  excuse  the  enormities  practiced  in 
the  Netherlands.  God  would  never  forgive  him  so 
long  as  one  heretic  remained  unburned  in  the  Prov 
inces  ;  yet  give  him  the  imperial  sceptre,  and  every 
heretic,  without  forswearing  his  heresy,  should  be 
purged  with  hyssop  and  become  whiter  than  snow." 
In  the  facts  here  related  we  certainly  see  abund- 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  45 

ant  evidence  of  Philip's  unbounded  duplicity,  but 
none  of  his  being  a  hypocrite  in  his  manifestations  of 
religious  faith.  We  therefore  respectfully  dissent 
from  the  conclusions  of  the  distinguished  historian. 
He  himself  has  too  deeply  studied  Philip's  character 
not  to  be  convinced  that,  had  the  champion  of  Cath 
olicity  been  elected  to  the  throne  of  the  Caesars  like 
his  father,  he  would  have  violated  all  the  engage 
ments  which  he  had  taken  to  secure  the  coveted 
object  of  his  ambition,  and  would  have  made  use  of 
the  increase  of  his  power  to  quarter,  disembowel 
and  burn  Protestants  with  renewed  energy  and  on  a 
larger  field  of  operation.  He  would,  no  doubt,  as 
Emperor,  have  given  terrible  proofs  of  the  genuine 
earnestness  of  his  fanaticism,  instead  of  il  bowing 
before  the  Reformation,'7  as  the  illustrious  author  we 
have  quoted  affects  to  think.  It  was  the  very 
essence  of  his  system  of  ethics  to  keep  no  faith  with 
the  enemies  of  God.  There  was  merit  in  the  breach, 
and  sin  in  the  observance.  No  covenant  with  Satan 
and  Satan's  offspring  could  be  binding  upon  a  true 
son  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church,  which,  as  he  be 
lieved,  permitted  such  dealings  with  the  "  accursed 
vermin"  of  Protestantism,  only  as  praiseworthy 
snares  to  entrap  the  disciples  of  the  arch-enemy.  It 
was  the  general  impression  in  those  times,  when  uni 
versal  deception  was  the  order  of  the  day  among 
the  rulers  of  the  earth,  that  Philip,  notwithstanding 
all  the  promises  he  might  make  and  all  the  oaths 
he  might  take,  would  not,  in  reality,  compromise  in 


46  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

matters  of  religion,  and  that  he  and  toleration  of 
heresy  were  two  things  which  could  not  exist  in  the 
same  atmosphere.  The  Prince  of  Orange  and  all  the 
Electoral  Princes  of  the  Empire  knew  but  too  well 
that  Philip  would  not  "undo  the  work  of  his  life," 
but  would  have  grimly  smiled  at  their  stupendous 
credulity,  if  they  had  been  such  fools  as  to  put  any 
faith  in  his  word.  Therefore  not  a  moment's  consider 
ation  was  given  to  assurances  which  must  have  been 
regarded  as  insults  to  the  intellect  of  those  to  whom 
they  were  addressed.  Hence  the  Electors  took  very 
good  care  to  withhold  the  imperial  mantle  from  the 
shoulders  of  him  who,  as  a  bigoted  Catholic,  hated 
heresy  with  an  intensity  not  to  be  exceeded  by  the 
fiercest  of  the  Popes,  and  who,  as  a  sovereign  and  a 
statesman,  looked  upon  religious  reformation  as  a 
pretext  for  civil  revolutions,  which  he  also  abhorred 
as  much  as  heresy,  "  with  all  his  heart,  with  all  his 
soul,  with  all  his  strength  and  with  all  his  mind." 

It  appears  to  have  been  a  part  of  Philip's  policy 
/     to  make  his  most  faithful  servants  and  most  power- 
I      ful  nobles  feel  that  he  could  exalt  and  depress  them 
at  will,  according  as  he  needed,  or  not,  their  services, 
and  that  they  were  entirely  dependent  on  him  for 
their  worldly  honors  and  prosperity.     Thus  he  used 
x    them  like  implements,  dismissed  them,  and  recalled 
Vthem  again  with  a  degree  of  indifference  which  was 
peculiar  to  his  nature,  and  what  is  still  more  extra 
ordinary,  with  a  cool  conviction  that  they  would  be 
at  hand   whenever   wanted,  or  whistled  for.     The 


PHILIP    II.    OP   SPAIN.  47 

haughty  Duke  of  Alva,  to  whom  he  was  but  too  much 
indebted  for  the  fidelity  with  which  his  tyrannical 
orders  were  executed  in  Flanders,  was  exiled  from 
court  for  a  slight  cause  of  displeasure,  and,  a  short 
time  after,  he  was  put,  as  if  nothing  had  happened, 
and  without  one  soothing  word  of  conciliation,  at  the 
head  of  the  army  destined  to  invade  Portugal.  He 
raised  Espinosa  from  nothing  to  be  president  of  the 
Council  of  Castile  and  Italy,  to  be  Grand  Inquis 
itor  and  Cardinal  ;  and  without  any  sufficient  motive 
that  we  can  discover,  he  struck  at  his  favorite  a 
blow  which  broke  his  heart  and  brought  him  to  the 
grave.  His  confidential  minister  and  agent,  Anto 
nio  Perez,  whom  he  had  intrusted  with  so  many  dark 
secrets,  he  did  not  fear  to  persecute  at  last  with 
relentless  fury.  So  it  was  with  others.  His  own 
sister,  Margaret  of  Austria,  who,  as  regent  of  the 
Netherlands,  had  suffered  much  for  his  sake,  he 
filled  with  disgust,  as  soon  as  she  ceased  to  answer 
his  purposes,  and  he  superseded  her  by  the  Duke 
of  Alva  in  a  manner  which  wounded  her  feel 
ings  and  was  highly  offensive  to  her  dignity.  The 
Duke  met  with  the  same  fate  in  his  turn.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  pursue  any  further  this  enumeration. 
They  wore  llinJ  i:idcod,  who,  hi  serving  him,  did 
not  see  that,  although  things  of  life,  real  men  of 
flesh  and  blood,  they  were  used  by  Philip  like 
chessmen  on  a  chess-board. 

Whoever    excited    Philip's  fear  or  jealousy  did 
not  usually  live  any  length  of  time,  when  within 


48  PHILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN. 

reach  of  his  arm,  and  that  arm  was  a  long  one.  Ii 
will  be  sufficient  to  mention  three  instances  in  whicl 
death,  whether  brought  by  accident,  or  by  the  subtle 
means  which  he  always  had  at  his  disposal,  served 
opportunely  what  was  supposed  to  be  the  secret 
desire  of  his  heart.  Thus,  Philip  was  still  in  the  ful] 
vigor  of  manhood,  when  his  son  and  heir,  Don  Car 
los,  had  reached  his  twenty-third  year.  This,  in 
itself,  was  an  untoward  circumstance  for  a  man  of 
Philip's  temperament,  for  reasons  which  we  shall 
mention.  Besides,  that  prince  was  the  very 
opposite  of  his  father.  A  creature  of  ungov 
ernable  passions,  and  of  a  violence  so  extreme 
that  it  must  be  attributed  to  insanity,  he  was  so  free, 
so  open,  or  so  imprudent  that  he  never  could  con 
ceal  one  single  -feeling  or  thought.  He  was  of  a 
fiery,  martial  disposition,  and  knew  no  fear.  Ca 
priciously  generous  or  cruel,  headstrong,  obstinate 
and  reckless,  rushing  blindly  like  an  infuriated  bull 
on  any  obstacle  to  his  will,  he  recalled  to  mind,  with 
exaggerated  and  distorted  features,  his  kinsman  an:l 
namesake,  Charles  the  Bold  of  Burgundy.  These 
were  sufficient  causes  of  dislike  in  a  man  of  Philip's 
nature,  and  he  treated  Carlos  with  such  studied 
coldness,  if  not  persecuting  aversion,  that  he  drove 
him  into  a  sort  of  frantic  despair.  The  partially 
mad  prince  wished  to  be  something  in  the  State  ;  he 
desired  to  be  initiated  to  business,  to  have  the  com 
mand  ,of  armies,  and  his  father  gave  him  to  under 
stand  that  he  was  to  remain  a  cipher.  He  had 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  49 

been  affianced  to  the  beautiful  Isabelle  of  France  ; 
his  father  took  her  for  himself.  Exasperated  by 
this  outrage  and  by  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  uni 
formly  and  systematically  bad  treatment  to  which 
he  was  subjected,  the  Prince  loudly  complained. 
He  uttered  words  of  savage  passion  against  the  King 
and  his  ministers.  He  breathed  vengeance  against 
his  enemies.  He  criticised  the  policy  pursued  by 
the  Government  in  the  Netherlands.  He  determin 
ed  to  go  himself  to  that  country  and  look  into  the 
causes  of  discontent.  Dagger  in  hand,  he  made  an 
assault  upon  the  Duke  of  Alva  for  having  accepted 
the  command  which  he,  the  Hereditary  Prince, 
wished  to  have.  Several  eligible  matches  had  been 
proposed  for  Carlos,  but  the  King  had  always  defeat 
ed  them.  He  seemed  to  be  anxious  that  his  son 
should  never  marry.  He  probably  thought  that  it 
would  have  strengthened  the  position  of  the  Prince. 
At  last  the  unfortunate  Carlos  resolved  to  fly  from 
the  Kingdom.  ,  He  communicated  his  intention  to  his 
uncle,  Don  John  of  Austria,  whom  he  loved  and 
trusted,  and  who  in  vain  remonstrated  on  the  folly 
of  such  a  scheme.  Don  John  thought  it  his  duty  to 
report  the  fact  to  the  King  ;  and  the  Prince,  on  sus 
pecting  it,  gave  way  to  one  of  his  ungovernable  fits 
of  passion,  and  attacked  his  uncle  sword  in  hand. 
There  was  something  still  worse :  it  was  suspected 
that  the  Prince  was  tainted  with  heresy.  Other 
wise,  he  could  not  sympathize  as  he  did  with  the 
insurrectionists  of  the  Netherlands.  Be  this  true- 

4 


50  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

or  not,  the  time  had  evidently  arrived  when  the 
heir  apparent  was  to  be  a  thorn  in  the  King's  side. 
It  was  probable  that,  like  most  heirs  apparent,  he 
would  soon  become  a  centre  of  opposition,  a  focus  of 
dangerous  intrigues,  a  rallying-point  for  all  malcon 
tents,  a  pole-star  toward  which  would  be  directed 
hopes  and  aspirations,  if  not  actual  plots  and  rebel 
lions,  and  therefore  that  he  would  turn  out  to  be  a 
source  of  anxieties  to  the  ruler  of  the  realm.  That 
ruler  was  Philip,  who,  as  we  may  reasonably  sup 
pose,  trembled  at  the  prospect  of  a  long  and  danger 
ous  struggle  with  so  fierce  and  unmanageable  a 
character  as  Don  Carlos.  It  might  become  neces 
sary  to  conciliate,  to  make  concessions,  and  even  to 
part  with  some  fragment  of  power.  In  one  of  the 
gloomy  cells  of  the  Escorial,  Philip,  on  this  occa 
sion  as  on  many  others,  deliberately  pondered, 
slowly  made  up  his  mind,  and  decreed  that  his  son 
be  arrested  and  never  again  restored  to  liberty. 
The  Prince,  soon  after  his  incarceration,  as  was  to 
be  expected,  sickened,  lingered,  and  died. 

We  know  in  history  of  no  scene  so  dramatically 
horrible,  and  at  the  same  time  so  contemptible,  so 
cowardly  and  so  ruffianly  as  is  presented  by  Philip, 
with  armor  over  his  clothes  and  a  helmet  on  his 
head,  stealing  at  midnight  on  the  slumbers  of  his 
son,  through  a  door  whose  boltings  and  fastenings 
he  had  ordered  a  skillful  mechanic  to  make  secretly 
insecure,  advancing  like  a  thief  and  a  murderer, 
tremblingly  and  cautiously,  preceded  by  six  of  the 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  51 

great  lords  of  his  Councils,  and  by  twelve  men  of  his 
body-guard,  who  were  to  seize  his  victim  in  his  bed 
and  remove  all  possibility  of  danger,  before  he  ven 
tured  into  the  chamber.  The  Prince  had  long  sus 
pected  an  attempt  against  his  life,  or  liberty.  He 
therefore  always  wore  arms  on  his  person,  and  slept 
with  weapons  under  his  pillow.  But  on  this  occa 
sion,  the  Grandees  of  Spain  whom  Philip  had  con 
verted  into  alguazils  crept  as  stealthily  as  wild 
Indians,  and  pinioned  Carlos  before  he  was  awake. 
Now  the  worst  fears  of  the  victim  were  but  too 
sadly  realized.  "Your  majesty,"  said  Carlos  to 
Philip,  "had  better  kill  me  than  keep  me  a  prisoner. 
It  will  be  a  great  scandal  to  the  Kingdom.  If  you 
do  not  kill  me,  I  will  make  away  with  myself." 
"  You  will  do  no  such  thing,"  replied  the  King,  "  for 
that  would  be  the  act  of  a  madman."  "  Your  maj 
esty,"  continued  Carlos,  "treats  me  so  ill  that  you 
force  me  to  this  extremity.  I  am  not  mad,  but  you 
drive  me  to  despair."  The  prisoner's  words,  relates 
Prescott,  became  so  broken  by  sobs  as  to  be  scarcely 
audible.  But  Philip  was  no  more  moved  than  the 
steel  cuirass  he  wore  over  his  breast.  He  quietly 
completed  his  arrangements  for  the  safe-keeping  of 
his  son,  took  with  his  own  royal  hands  a  coffer  which 
contained  the  papers  of  Carlos,  and  withdrew  with 
it  from  the  apartment  of  the  miserable  being  who 
was  doubly  miserable  from  having  such  a  father. 
Shortly  after,  the  prince  was  no  more,  and  Philip 
slept  better. 


52  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

The  death  of  Carlos  was  attended  with  a  circum 
stance  in  which  there  seems  to  be  a  degree  of  im 
pious  mockery  and  diabolical  hypocrisy  which 
reaches  the  sublime.  We  mention  the  anecdote, 
because  in  it  the  whole  of  Philip's  nature  stands  re 
vealed.  It  paints  to  the  life,  like  one  of  Rembrandt's 
finishing  strokes  of  the  brush,  or  rather  it  is  like 
a  photograph  taken  by  the  lurid  light  of  a  flame  shot 
out  from  Pandemonium.  If  some  doubt  that  Philip 
killed  his  son,  none  doubt  that  he  cherished  against 
him  the  most  deep-rooted  aversion  ;  and  yet  look  at 
this  scene  !  Here  lies  the  Prince  on  his  bed,  dying,  if 
not  from  poison,  at  least  from  despair  produced  by 
his  father's  treatment.  He  is  insensible,  or  he  sleeps 
for  a  little  while,  before  sleeping  forever.  Philip 
steals  softly  behind  the  Prince  of  Eboli  and  the  High 
Prior,  Antonio  de  Toledo,  who  are  watching  over 
the  last  agonies  of  the  victim.  He  stretches  out  his 
hand  toward  the  bed,  and,  making  the  sign  of  the 
cross,  gives  a  parting  benediction  to  his  dying  son. 
Was  Philip  in  earnest  ?  Was  this  the  blessing  of  a 
kind  parent,  after  the  sentence  of  a  just  and  inexo 
rable  judge  ?  Was  there  some  kind  of  sophistry  by 
which  Philip  persuaded  himself  that  he  had  fulfilled 
the  duties  of  both?  If  not,  we  wonder  if  the  arch 
dissembler  thought  that  he  deceived  by  the  stage 
effect  of  this  grand  piece  of  acting  his  accomplices 
who  stood  by,  or  hoped  that  their  report  of  it  would 
dupe  the  world  ? 

'There  is  a  figure  which  projects  in  bright  relief 


PHILIP   IT.    OF   SPAIN.  53 

from  the  dark  canvas  of  Philip's  reign,  with  a  lam 
bent  glory  sporting  around  its  head.  It  is  that  of 
Don  John  of  Austria,  who  was  the  natural  son  of 
Charles  V.,  but  who,  if  barred  from  the  patrimony 
which  went  to  the  legitimate  offspring,  had  inherited 
all  the  grand  and  heroic  qualities  which  his  father 
had  possessed.  He  was  born  a  hero,  a  paladin  of 
romance.  The  beauty  of  his  person  was  equal  to 
the  excellence  of  his  mind  and  heart.  He  seemed 
to  have  been  intended  by  nature  as  a  satire  on  his 
royal  brother.  He  served  that  brother  faithfully, 
gained  victories  for  him,  and  ought  to  have  been  the 
pride  of  the  house  of  Austria,  by  which  he  aspired 
to  be  acknowledged  as  if  he  had  been  born  in  wed 
lock.  As  a  reward  for  all  he  had  done,  he  begged 
to  be  raised  to  the  rank  of  infante,  or  member  of  the 
royal  family,  by  a  formal  decree,  but  this  boon  Philip 
never  granted.  Don  John  found  it  more  easy  to  be 
the  conqueror  of  the  Moors  in  the  Alpujarras,  and 
of  the  Turks  at  Lepanto,  and  to  be  the  idol  of  Chris 
tendom,  than  to  possess  himself  of  one  particle  of 
his  brother's  affection.  Others,  with  the  bar  sinis 
ter  in  their  shields,  had  ascended  thrones,  and  he 
also  wished,  with  his  good  sword  and  with  the  sanc 
tion  of  the  Pope,  to  conquer  a  kingdom  for  himself. 
Philip  took  care  to  prevent  it.  Don  John  aspired 
to  the  hand  of  Mary  Stuart,  of  Elizabeth  of  England, 
and  other  royal  dames.  He  probably  thought  that 
his  glory  was  too  dazzling  to  permit  the  defect  in 
his  birth  to  be  seen.  But  Philip  was  determined 


54  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

that  his  bastard  brother  should  not  become  a  king 
like  himself.  Besides,  it  looks  as  if  it  had  been  set 
tled  in  his  mind  that  Don  John  should  not  contract 
any  matrimonial  alliance  whatever.  It  was  suffi 
ciently  bitter  to  be  eclipsed  by  his  subject,  and  it 
was  a  consolation  that  he  could  thwart,  oppress,  hu 
miliate  and  crush,  at  will,  the  object  of  his  envy. 
To  permit  him  to  become  independent  was  a  thought 
not  to  be  endured.  Would  he  allow  Don  John  the 
opportunity  to  show  himself  as  superior  to  him  in 
the  capacity  of  a  king,  as  he  had  proved  himself  to 
be  by  his  personal  exploits,  his  brilliant  valor,  and 
other  moral  qualities  ?  Unfortunately,  Antonio  Pe 
rez,  the  only  man,  perhaps,  who,  for  many  years, 
succeeded  in  thoroughly  deceiving  Philip,  and  in 
slyly  leading  him  into  the  paths  in  which  the  skill 
ful  minister  wished  him  to  tread,  convinced  the 
tyrant,  who  listened  but  too  greedily  to  such  sug 
gestions,  that  Don  John  not  only  schemed  to  encircle 
his  brow  with  a  foreign  crown,  but  also  nourished 
designs  which  might  be  fatal  to  the  royal  authority 
at  home.  Philip  began  to  fear.  That  was  enough. 
Escovedo,  the  secretary  and  friend  of  the  Prince, 
who  was  suspected  of  encouraging  his  ambitious 
aspirations,  was  assassinated  by  Philip's  order. 
Don  John's  noble  heart  was  broken  with  grief  by 
this  event  and  by  the  King's  suspicions  of  his  fidel 
ity,  combined  with  various  causes  of  despondency 
emanating  from  other  sources.  Although  still  red 
olent  with  youth,  he  sickened  and  died  in  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  55 

Netherlands,  where  he  had  been  governing,  fighting, 
negotiating,  and  pining  away  in  the  service  of  his 
brother.  Livid  spots  appeared  on  his  body  after 
death.  The  multitude,  and  particularly  his  com- 
panions-in-anns,  who  composed  the  funeral  proces 
sion,  shed  a  profusion  of  tears,  but  did  not  venture 
to  whisper  the  suspicions  that  were  in  their  minds. 
The  finger  of  caution  was  raised  to  the  lips  to  give 
warning,  and  to  close  them  against  any  unguarded 
expression.  The  king  might  hear.  To  be  impar 
tial,  it  must  be  admitted  that  Philip  had  shown,  on 
repeated  occasions,  more  affection  for  his  brother, 
and  more  solicitude  for  the  preservation  of  his  life, 
than  could  be  expected  from  his  cold-blooded  tem 
perament  ;  nor  is  there  any  proof  that  Don  John's 
death  was  not  natural,  or  if  it  was  caused  by  poison, 
that  Philip  was  accessary  to  that  crime.  Be  it  as  it 
may,  however,  Don  John's  ambition  had  become 
troublesome,  and  he  ceased  to  live  at  an  opportune 
moment  for  Philip's  peace  of  mind. 

William  of  Nassau,  prince  of  Orange,  the  Washing 
ton  of  the  Netherlands,  was  one  of  the  men  whom 
Philip  hated  the  most  intensely,  and  no  man  ever 
knew  Philip  better  than  William.  He  was  not  to  be 
cajoled  and  entrapped  like  Bgmont  and  Horn.  He 
was  proof  against  all  of  Philip's  oaths,  arts,  flatteries 
and  deceptions.  Philip  never  made  a  move  on  the 
chess-board  which  had  not  been  guessed  at  and  anti 
cipated  by  William.  It  is  really  interesting  to  see 
these  two  wary  antagonists  keenly  watching  each 


56  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

other's  combinations,  plotting  and  counter-plotting, 
mining  and  undermining,  and  trying  to  outmanoeu 
vre  each  other.  Philip  the  taciturn  had  found  his 
match  in  William  the  silent.  If  the  King's  perse 
verance  equaled  that  of  the  Prince ;  in  diplomacy 
and  in  fertility  of  resources  the  Prince  surpassed  the 
King.  Philip's  generals  could  beat  William  in  the 
field,  but  hardly  had  one  army  been  destroyed, 
when  he  created  another.  It  was  Antaeus  rising 
from  the  ground  with  more  energy  and  desperate 
resolve,  each  time  after  he  had  been  prostrated  on 
his  mother  earth,  and  Philip  was  no  Hercules  to  lift 
him  up  and  crush  him  whilst  struggling  in  the  vacant 
air.  The  Catholic  King  got  tired,  at  last,  of  the  ex 
hausting  game  he  had  been  playing  so  long  against 
the  champion  of  Protestantism,  and,  one  day,  the 
world  heard  with  horror  that  the  Prince  of  Orange 
had  died  by  an  assassin's  shot. 

Philip  did  not  possess  that  valuable  art  which 
some  sovereigns  have  of  saying  gracious  or  soul- 
stirring  things  which  live  forever  in  the  memory  of 
him  to  whom  they  are  addressed,  which  soften  dis 
appointment  and  double  the  value  of  a  favor.  He 
could  not,  like  his  contemporary,  Henry  IV.  of 
France,  utter  those  sentences  which  take  forcible 
possession  of  a  man's  heart ;  which  make  the  greatest 
sacrifices  light  and  even  acceptable  to  him  from 
whom  they  are  expected  ;  which  cause  toils,  priva 
tions  and  dangers  to  be  forgotten,  and  send  one 
bounding  over  a  battery  of  cannon  with  as  much 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  57 

alacrity  as  if  going  to  a  wedding  feast.  There  was 
one  occasion,  however,  on  which  Philip  was  so 
moved  that  he  was  betrayed  mto 


ment  with  the  dignity  of  a  Sovereign  and  the  sensi- 
bility  of  a  man.  It  was  when,  after  the  battle  of 
St.  Quentin,  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  laying  at  his  feet 
the  banners  and  other  trophies  conquered  over  the 
French,  and  kneeling  down,  would  have  kissed  his 
hand.  The  King  raised  him  from  the  ground, 
embraced  him,  and  said  that  u  the  acknowledgments 
were  due  from  himself  to  the  captain  who  had  won 
such  a  victory."  But  we  believe  that,  as  a  general 
rule,  it  was  his  intention,  as  it  was  his  nature,  to  be 
impassive,  and  that  he  was  resolved  to  permit  him 
self,  as  seldom  as  possible,  to  be  warmed  into  any 
exhibition  of  feeling.  He  seems  to  have  taken 
pleasure  in  reversing  the  celebrated  saying,  "Homo 
sum  /  liumani  nihil  a  me  alienum  puto"  and  to  have 
adopted  as  his  motto,  "I  am  not  a  man,  and  what 
concerns  man  is  foreign  to  me."  Thus  his  policy 
was  to  appear  to  be  a  stranger  to  human  affections 
and  sentiments,  and  to  be  impervious  to  grief  and 
joy.  When  he  heard  of  the  disaster  of  the  Invin 
cible  Armada,  his  countenance  did  not  change,  and 
he  contented  himself  with  saying,  "  That  he  had 
sent  his  ships  to  contend  against  men  and  not  against 
the  elements."  The  glorious  triumph  of  Lepanto 
was  received  with  the  same  apparent  indifference. 
Such  impassiveness  was  easily  attained  by  a  man 
who  had  no  heart.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  he 


58  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

was  not  dissected  after  his  death,  for  the  special 
purpose  of  examining  the  place  where  that  organ 
should  have  been.  Even  Alva  felt  for  the  widow 
and  children  of  Egmont.  He  informed  Philip  thatx 
they  were  reduced  to  the  most  horrible  destitution, 
and  begged  him  to  have  pity  on  them.  The  reply 
was  :  "I  will  think  of  it,  and  let  you  know  my  de 
termination."  This  was  all  that  could  be  obtained, 
and  they  would  have  starved  if  Alva  had  not,  out 
of  his  own  private  fortune,  granted  a  pension  to 
Egmont's  widow  and  Egmont's  children.  How  bit 
ter  must  have  been  to  them  the  bread  proceeding 
from  such  a  source ! 

One  of  the  singularities  of  Philip's  character  was 
the  anxiety  which  he  frequently  showed  concerning 
the  future  life  of  his  victims  in  a  better  world.  He 
seemed  to  be  extremely  desirous  that  they  should 
die  like  Christians,  and  that  their  souls  should  be 
saved,  as  in  the  case  of  Egmont,  Horn,  Montigny 
and  others.  This  feeling  was  exhibited  in  secret 
and  confidential  letters ;  it  must,  therefore,  be 
accepted  as  sincere,  and  cannot  be  presumed  to 
have  been  intended  for  effect.  But  the  mys 
tery  which  shrouded  so  many  of  his  acts  was 
one  of  the  distinctive  features  of  his  reign.  The 
death  of  Montigny,  of  Don  John,  of  Escovedo,  of 
Don  Carlos,  the  persecution  of  Antonio  Perez,  the 
incarceration  of  the  Princess  of  Eboli,  and  other 
deeds  equally  dark,  were  enigmas  which  excited,  at 
the  time,  the  most  intense  curiosity,  and  which  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  59 

world  still  attempts  to  solve.  Light  has  fallen  upon 
them  in  the  course  of  years,  but  yet  there  are  in 
them  obscurities  which  remain  impenetrable.  Much 
is  unexplained  as  to  the  causes  and  circumstances 
of  those  events  which  glide  before  us  with  an  iron 
mask  on  their  faces  like  the  celebrated  prisoner  of  the 
age  of  Louis  XIV.  But  those  mysteries  give  a  sort 
of  painful  attraction  to  the  reign  of  Philip.  To  them 
he  is  indebted  for  a  great  part  of  his  fame  and  for 
the  effect  which  he  produces  on  the  imagination. 
It  is  due  to  their  influence  that  he  has  become  a 
favorite  study,  a  rich  theme,  not  only  for  the  his 
torian,  but  also  for  the  philosopher  and  the  poet. 
Seen  through  deep  mists  and  frowning  clouds,  by 
the  imperfect  glimpses  of  the  fugitive  lightning  leap 
ing  from  the  bosom  of  the  howling  storm,  the  figure 
of  Philip  assumes  colossal  proportions.  Like  one 
of  those  gigantic  peaks  which,  at  the  North  Pole, 
overhang  the  angry  waves  of  tempestuous  seas  in  a 
sunless  atmosphere,  it  derives  its  majesty  from  the 
terrors  with  which  it  is  surrounded. 

Patience  is  said  to  have  been_the  ^greatjv'jrtue  ;  of^ 


Philip.  That  virtue  was,  probably,  due  to  his  tem 
perament.  We  think  that  he  carried  it  to  an  excess, 
and  that  it  became  a  defect.  It  is  an  important  art 
to  know  how  to  wait,  but  there  is  something  like 
waiting  too  long.  He  used  to  boast  that  "he  and 
time  were  a  match  for  any  two."  But  he  deceived 
himself  ;  time  was  not  always  his  ally.  Time  favors 
genius  and  virtue  ;  to  the  latter  it  renders  tardy 


60  PHILIP   II.    OP   SPAIN. 

justice,  and  to  the  former  it  tenders  golden  oppor 
tunities,  which  must  be  snatched  with  a  ready  grasp. 
Time,  like  tide  and  wind,  waits  for  no  man  ;  and 
Philip,  progressing  at  the  slow  and  measured  step 
of  an  Iberian  mule,  frequently  arrived  too  late  to 
co-operate  with  time.  His  faith  in  its  agency,  how 
ever,  remained  unshaken,  and  it  betrayed  him  into 
the  adoption  of  a  system  of  procrastination.  It 
grew  into  an  unconquerable  habit,  which,  by  his 
example,  he  seems  to  have  made  a  national  one,  and 
to  have  bequeathed  to  all  the  subsequent  govern 
ments  of  Spain.  It  drove  his  officers  and  ministers 
into  fits  of  despair,  and  they  were  constantly  com 
plaining  of  his  dilatoriness.  Whilst  he  was  deliber 
ating,  the  moment  for  action  had  passed  away. 
During  the  time  which  it  took  him  to  write  long  dis 
patches,  in  which  he  equivocated  to  his  heart's  con 
tent,  and  sedulously  abstained  from  meeting  those 
difficult  questions  on  which  his  answer  was  anxiously 
expected,  his  father,  Charles  V.,  would  have  con 
quered  a  province.  Many  of  the  important  decisions 
and  measures  into  which  he  was  at  last  driven  were 
too  late.  If  he  had  been  prompt  on  those  occasions, 
more  than  one  success  would  have  been  secured,  and 
more  than  one  reverse  avoided.  Philip  was  too 
prudent,  too  cautious.  He  was  ambitious  to  acquire, 
but  he  had  too  much  to  lose  to  be  bold  and  ad 
venturous.  Like  Cassar,  he  would  not  have  trusted 
to  the  cast  of  a  die.  It  is  true  that  he  was  not 
Csesar,  and  was  not  of  a  temperament  to  do  violence 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  61 

to  fortune.  The  mole,  which  gropes  laboriously 
under  ground,  would  not  be  true  to  its  nature,  and 
would  act  unwisely,  if  it  hung  its  destiny  on  the 
wing  of  an  eagle.  Philip  could  hardly  have  been 
surpassed  as  head  of  the  Order  of  the  Jesuits,  as 
chief  of  the  Inquisition,  as  minister  of  police,  or  as 
a  wily  ambassador.  Considering  his  indefatigable 
industry  and  his  peculiar  qualifications,  we  even 
think  that  he  might  have  united  in  his  person  all 
these  different  characters  and  cumulated  their  func 
tions,  without  fear  of  suffering  from  comparison 
with  anybody  distinguished  for  exalted  merit  in  any 
one  of  those  positions.  But  Providence  had  destined 
him  to  be  a  king,  and  we  deem  that,  as  such,  he  had 
many  superiors. 

There  is  a  wonderful  monument,  in  the  architec 
ture  of  which  the  character  of  Philip  is  typified. 
JtisJJie_Esc£Haj._Jhe  vow  which  he  had  made  to 
erect  this  prodigious  structure,  if  he  won  the  battle 
of  St.  Quentin,  was  probably  but  an  occasion  for 
him  to  carry  into  execution  a  conception  which  was 
already  in  his  mind.  It  may  have  suggested,  how 
ever,  the  whimsical  idea  of  dedicating  it  to  St.  Law 
rence,  the  patron  saint  of  the  day  on  which  that 
event  took  place,  and  of  adopting  for  the  plan  of  the 
building  the  shape  of  the  gridiron  on  which  the 
saint  is  said  to  have  suffered  martyrdom.  Great 
monarchs  had  bequeathed  to  posterity  architectural 
creations,  as  the  manifestations  of  the  power 
and  taste  which  they  had  possessed.  It  is  to  be 


62  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

supposed  that  Philip  had  the  same  ambition,  and  the 
Escorial  arose  in  its  massive  proportions  to  astonish 
the  world.  It  was  with  Philip  a  labor  of  love  dur 
ing  man}7  long  years,  and  he  spent  in  its  construction 
six  millions  of  ducats — a  sum  which,  considering  the 
difference  in  the  value  of  coin  between  that  epoch 
and  ours,  may  be  set  down  as  equivalent  to  almost 
thirty  millions  of  dollars.  Within  a  few  miles  of 
Madrid,  in  a  region  which  seems  to  have  been  cal 
cined  by  the  fiery  wrath  of  heaven,  where  the  winds 
howl  with  fury,  or  moan  in  a  piteous  tone  during 
the  greater  portion  of  the  year,  there  is  a  chain  of 
mountains  whose  heads  are  white  with  snow  even  at 
the  end  of  July.  Those  mountains  are  bare  of  veg 
etation  and  are  of  an  ashy  color,  as  if  their  cheeks 
were  pale  with  affright  at  the  scene  of  desolation  in 
which  they  are  placed.  This  was  the  spot  selected 
by  Philip  for  the  monument  which  was  to  commem 
orate  his  reign.  It  is  a  palace,  a  cloister  and  a 
tomb.  God  and  the  King  in  Philip's  mind  were 
intimately  associated — they  could  not  be  separated. 
God,  it  is  true,  might  be  where  the  King  was  not, 
but  where  the  King  was,  there  was  God  bound  to 
be.  In  such  close  alliance  with  the  Deity,  the  King 
felt  secure.  He  could  do  no  wrong,  and  nothing 
could  be  attempted  against  the  majesty  of  earth, 
without  its  being  also  an  attempt  against  the  majesty 
of  Heaven.  The  blending  of  the  two  was  to  strike 
with  awe  all  mortal  eyes.  He  seems  to  have 
thought  that  he  was  in  a  sort  of  mystical  copartner- 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  63 

ship  with  God  and  His  Church,  and  that  he  was 
entitled  to  most  of  the  profits  of  the  association.  If 
as  the  omnipotent  representative  of  divine  power- 
as  king — he  violated  any  of  the  commandments  of 
the  Decalogue,  provided  he  conscientiously  thought 
it  was  for  the  benefit,  first  of  the  throne,  and  next 
of  the  Church,  he  felt  sure  that  the  hand  of  God 
was  extended  over  his  head  for  absolution.  Thus 
one  part  of  the  Escorial  was  a  palace  for  himself, 
and  another  a  temple  for  God.  To  each  his  share. 
It  was  also  to  be  a  mausoleum  for  his  race — the  tomb, 
side  by  side  with  the  throne — which  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at — for  from  the  insane  Joanna  who  gave 
birth  to  his  royal  line  down  to  the  idiotic  Charles 
the  Second  who  closed  it,  there  seems  to  have  been 
in  the  family  a  strange  disposition  to  keep  up  a  kind 
of  mournful  dalliance  with  the  grave,  and  to  enter 
tain  a  wild  curiosity  to  peep  into  its  secrets. 

It  is  impossible  to  see  the  Escorial  without  com 
ing  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is  the  fittest  abode  on 
earth  for  monastic  austerity,  ascetic  devotion  and 
penitential  remorse.  The  very  stones  seem  to  pray. 
There  stands  revealed  at  one  glance  the  whole  spirit 
of  Christianity — not  of  Christianity  smiling  with 
hopes,  but  convulsed  with  terror,  prostrated  at  the 
feet  of  an  angry  God,  and  listening  to  the  trumpet 
which  announces  the  day  of  judgment.  The  blood 
freezes  in  the  veins  ;  the  very  soul  shivers  with  cold 
and  awe.  The  Escorial  is  a  Biblical  monument,  and 
one  is  almost  tempted  to  fancy  that  it  was  planned 


64  PHILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN. 

by  Moses  under  the  inspiration  of  his  Egyptian 
recollections.  He  who  enters  its  sombre  walls 
feels  a  creeping  of  the  flesh,  as  if  he  was  conscious 
of  standing  in  the  invisible  presence  of  Jehovah. 
He  imagines,  with  a  French  writer,  that  he  hears 
the  thunders  of  Sinai  and  the  lamentations  of  the 
prophets.  He  has  a  vision  of  Asia,  of  Jerusalem, 
of  the  temple  of  Nineveh,  of  the  feast  of  Belshazzar. 
The  whole  of  the  Old  Testament  is  before  him.  He 
shudders  as  he  advances  under  those  gloomy  vaults, 
when  suddenly  the  cross  of  the  Saviour  meets  his 
eyes,  and  the  Calvary  and  Mount  Tabor  rise  before 
him,  the  one  with  all  the  sublimity  of  its  sufferings, 
and  the  other  with  all  its  hopes,  its  consoling  prom 
ises  and  its  final  glorification.  This  is  the  religious 
aspect  of  the  building,  but  it  has  also  its  political 
physiognomy. 

It  has  been  said  with  some  felicity  of  expression 
that  the  Escorial  was  the  capitol  of  the  Inquisition. 
To  some  imaginations  it  may  look  like  a  jail,  out 
of  which  the  genius  of  progress,  if  once  incarcerated 
in  it,  could  never  escape  ;  or  it  may  be  taken  with 
its  frowning  towers  for  a  fortress,  into  which  Philip 
hoped  that  new  ideas  and  innovations  would  not 
venture  to  penetrate,  and  which  even  the  whirlwind 
of  revolutions  would  not  dare  to  assail.  It  certainly 
has  the  stamp,  and  might  be  accepted  as  the  type  of 
the  immutability  of  the  Catholic  Church.  Perhaps 
Philip  persuaded  himself  that  the  one  hundred  and 
thirty  monks  whom  he  had  established  so  near  his 


PHILIP    II.    OF    SPAIN.  65 

bed-chamber,  who  prayed  for  him  and  did  penance 
night  and  day  on  his  behalf,  might  be  expiatory 
victims  sufficient  to  atone  for  his  sins.  Who  knows 
that  he  may  not  have  thought  that  he  could  thus  strike 
a  balance-sheet  between  Heaven  and  himself,  in  which 
much  might  remain  to  his  credit,  and  Heaven  turn 
out  to  be  his  debtor  ?  Be  it  as  it  may,  the  Escorial 
is  singularly  emblematical  of  Philip  and  of  the  coun 
try  over  which  he  ruled.  Spain,  Philip,  and  the 
Escorial  so  naturally  harmonize  together,  that  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  conceive  their  separate  existence. 


66  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 


CHAPTER  III. 

PHILIP  had  a  cultivated  mind  and  a  pure  taste  in 
he  fine  arts.  He  was  considered  a  good  judge  of 
Latin  compositions,  and  was  sometimes  consulted  by 
authors  in  that  language  on  questions  of  prosody  and 
on  the  propriety  of  certain  idiomatic  expressions, 
although  perhaps  it  was  but  artful  flattery  on  their 
part.  He  was  acquainted  with  several  modern 
languages,  and  was  fond  of  books,  as  is  evidenced  by 
his  formation  of  the  magnificent  library  of  the  Esco- 
rial.  He  was  no  mean  connoisseur  in  painting  and 
architecture.  A  daub  would  not  have  been  palmed 
upon  him  under  the  prestige  of  a  celebrated  name. 
He  corresponded  with  men  who  had  made  themselves 
illustrious  by  their  science,  and  he  professed  much 
esteem  for  erudition  in  general.  But,  nevertheless, 
he  issued  an  edict  by  which  he  condemned  to  per 
petual  exile,  or  to  the  loss  of  all  their  earthly  posses 
sions,  any  of  his  subjects  who  should  leave  the  realm 
to  pursue  their  studies  in  the  colleges,  universities 
or  schools  of  other  kingdoms.  He  was  afraid  of  the 
fifiltcation  of  foreign,  ideas  mto^parnL  He~patrbn- 
ized  science  and  literature  on  condition  that  they 
should  be  well  used  to  the  bit  and  whip,  like  docile  and 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  67 

thoroughly  trained  horses,  fattened  and  groomed  in  his 
stables  to  pull  his  coach  with  a  stately  and  decorous 
step  on  State  occasions.  Poetry  might  tune 'its  lyre 
as  it  pleased,  to  sing  the  loves  of  piping  shepherds 
and  fugitive  nymphs',  or  describe  the  social  manners 
of  the  age,  or  of  former  times,  in  comedies  and 
novels.  The  imagination  was  permitted  to  take  its 
flight  according  to  the  strength  of  its  wings,  but  it 
was  bound  not  to  alight  on  any  ground  which  might 
possibly  fall  within  the  domain  of  State  affairs,  or 
of  the  Catholic  Church.  The  philosopher,  the  theo 
logian,  the  astronomer,  the  jurist,  the  geologist,  the 
student,  or  explorer  in  whatever  field  of  science, 
were  still  more  restricted  than  the  poet.  How  could 
it  be  otherwise,  when  no  man  could  publish  one 
single  idea  without  putting  this  question  to  himself : 
What  will  the  King  or  the  Inquisition  think  of  it  ? 
Approbation  might  bring  no  reward,  and  disappro 
bation  was  sure  to  send  a  victim  ,to  the  dungeon,  the 
stake,  or  the  scaffold.  Philip  may  be  said  to  have 
loved  science  after  the  fashion  of  the  Sultan  in  the 
Arabian  Tales,  who  caused  to  be  strangled  in  the 
morning  the  Sultana  of  the  preceding  night.  He 
embraced  Science  as  long  as  she  ministered  to  his 
purposes  and  served  him  as  a  willing  slave,  in  the 
glimmering  dawn  of  the  intellectual  atmosphere 
which  he  liked,  but  as  soon  as  the  light- which  is 
inherent  in  her  threatened  to  break  out  into  an 
illumination,  the  axe  of  the  executioner  extinguished 
it  in  blood. 


68  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

The  person  of  Philip  has  been  as  variously  de 
scribed  by  historians  and  chroniclers  as  his  charac 
ter.  To  some  he  is  Hyperion,  to  others  a  satyr — 
half  beast,  half  man.  The  truth  is  between  the  two 
representations.  As  he  stands  before  posterity, 
brought  again  into  life  by  the  pencil  of  Titian,  when 
the  bloom  of  youth  had  not  yet  faded  before  the 
sallow  tints  of  disease,  and  before  the  smooth  brow 
had  been  wrinkled  by  age,  by  care  and  thought,  he 
is  not  destitute  of  comeliness.  The  light  yellow  of 
his  hair  and  beard,  his  fair  and  delicate  complexion, 
would  remind  us  of  his  German  extraction,  even 
without  the  assistance  of  the  famous  thick  underlip 
of  his  Austrian  race,  which  mars  the  symmetry  of 
his  lineaments.  Another  defect  was  the  protrusion 
of  his  lower  jaw,  which  was  more  marked  than  in 
his  father's  face,  to  which  his  own  bore  a  strong  re 
semblance,  although  having  a  less  intellectual  cast. 
It  gave  him  a  heavier  and  duller  look,  and  partook 
more  of  animalism.  His  eyebrows  approached  each 
other  too  closely  over  the  root  of  his  nose,  but  that 
nose  was  thin  and  aquiline.  Behind  the  cold,  pen 
sive  and  even  sad  expression  of  his  blue  eyes  as 
they  settle  in  fixed  repose  on  him  who  gazes  on  the 
monarch's  portrait,  there  seems  to  lurk  something 
sinister,  which  sends  a  chilling  sensation  to  the  blood. 
His  forehead  was  finely  developed,  aud  gave  the 
assurance  of  high  intellectual  powers.  His  stature 
was  below  the  middle  size  ;  his  figure  was  slight 
and  spare,  but  in  his  limbs  there  was  beauty  of 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  69 

proportion  and  shape.  He  was  scrupulously  neat 
in  his  dress,  which  was  rich  and  elegant,  although 
of  a  sable  color  that  seemed  to  be  in  harmony  with 
the  complexion  of  his  thoughts.  It  always  consisted 
of  black  satin  or  velvet,  of  which  his  shoes  were  also 
made.  The  only  ornament  which  he  generally  wore 
was  the  superb  collar  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  which 
hung  from  his  neck  to  his  breast.  A  black  cap 
with  feathers  covered  his  head  and  completed  his 
costume.  In  this  dark  livery,  amidst  the  gorgeous 
train  of  his  nobles  resplendent  with  jewels  and  all 
the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  he,  with  his  moody  brow, 
looked  like  the  picture  of  night  followed  by  the 
starry  host  of  Heaven. 

The  boy  in  Philip  had  prognosticated  what  the 
man  would  be.  There  were  in  the  sapling  clear  in 
dications  of  the  strength  and  vast  proportions  of  the 
future  oak.  It  might,  perhaps,  be  more  proper  to 
say  that  Philip  never  was  young.  If  youth  was  in 
his  body,  it  never  was  in  his  soul.  A  boy,  slow  of 
speech,  frigid  in  his  demeanor,  without  any  of  the 
occasional  sallies  of  his  age,  saturnine  like  a  misan 
thrope,  reserved  like  a  diplomatist,  so  self-possessed  as 
to  be  rarely  off  his  guard,  is  a  portentous  anomaly. 
He  may  be  said  to  be  prematurely  old,  and  a  sort 
of  moral  prodigy  to  be  wondered  at  and  pitied. 
With  such  a  temper,  with  the  ambition  which  he 
had,  with  his  fierce  love  of  power,  it  may  readily  be 
supposed  that  he  was,  as  his  father  wished,  easily 
trained  to  business,  for  which,  besides,  he  had  a 


70  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

strong  natural  disposition.  Furthermore,  he  had 
the  good  fortune  to  have  in  his  imperial  parent  the 
best  of  guides,  under  whom  he  served,  if  I  may  use 
the  expression,  the  apprenticeship  of  kingcraft. 
With  a  view,  no  doubt,  of  initiating  his  son  to  the 
art  of  governing,  Charles,  on  leaving  Spain  for  one 
of  his  last  continental  expeditions,  had  made  him 
regent  in  his  absence.  By  a  short  extract  from  one 
of  the  admonitory  letters  of  Charles  to  Philip,  we 
can  judge  of  the  excellence  of  the  tuition  adminis 
tered  by  the  father  to  the  son:  "The  Duke  of 
Alva,"  wrote  Charles,  "is  the  ablest  statesman  and 
the  best  soldier  I  have  in  my  dominions.  Consult 
him,  above  all,  in  military  affairs  ;  but  do  not  de 
pend  on  him  entirely  in  these  or  in  any  other  matters. 
Depend  on  no  one  but  yourself.  The  Grandees  will 
be  but  too  prompt  to  secure  your  favor,  and  through 
you  to  govern  the  land.  But  if  you  are  thus  gov 
erned,  it  will  be  your  ruin.  The  mere  suspicion  of 
it  will  do  you  infinite  prejudice.  Make  use  of  all ; 
but  lean  exclusively  on  none.  In  your  perplexities, 
ever  trust  in  your  Maker.  Have  no  care  but  for 
Him."  One  can  hardly  study  the  life  of  Philip, 
without  being  satisfied  that  he  bettered  some  of 
these  instructions.  He  certainly  depended  "  on 
none  but  himself,"  although  fond  of  consulting  others. 
But  if  in  his  perplexities  he  "  trusted  in  his  Maker/' 
he  no  less  trusted  in  himself,  in  the  public  execu 
tioner,  in  the  fagots  of  the  Inquisition,  in  the  secret 
blow  of  the  dagger,  and  in  the  withering  effects  of 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  71 

the  poisonous  cup.  "Have  no  care  but  for  Him 
alone/'  wrote  Charles.  Philip  obeyed,  but  modified 
the  precept.  He  had  no  care  but  for  God,  save  the 
King  ;  and  if,  throughout  life,  the  King  persuaded 
himself,  as  we  think  he  did,  that  he  served  only  the 
cause  of  God,  and  fought  none  but  His  battles,  it 
was,  it  must  be  admitted,  by  incasing  himself  in  a 
panoply  furnished  by  the  armory  of  the  powers  of 
darkness. 

In  that  same  letter  of  paternal  advice,  the  Emperor 
cautioned  Philip  against  yielding  to  the  blandish 
ments  of  libertinism,  which,  syren-like,  would  lead 
him  to  perdition  by  emasculating  his  body  and  put 
ting  the  seal  of  reprobation  on  his  soul.  This 
highly  moral  instruction,  although  coming  from  a 
source  which  Philip  respected  more  than  any  other, 
did  not  save  him  from  the  contamination  of  more 
than  one  vicious  amour  and  adulterous  connection^, 
but,  unlike  the  monarchs  of  the  epoch,  he  threw  a 
decorous  veil  over  his  frailties.  No  woman  ever 
exercised  any  real  influence  over  him,  and  his  dal 
liance  with  beauty  was  attended  with  the  same  mys 
tery  which  shrouded  his  other  actions.  Philip  sed 
ulously  guarded  his  name  against  the  pollution  of 
any  amorous  scandal  as  unbefitting  the  uniformly 
religious  color  which  he  wished  to  give  to  his  life  ; 
and  as  derogating  from  his  kingly  dignity.  Although 
in  gallantries  he  may  have  sinned  more  than  his 
father,  yet  he  would  not,  like  him,  have  blazoned  out 
to  the  world  any  foibles  of  the  kind  and  acknowl- 


72  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

edged  a  natural  son,  had  that  son  been  a  hero  like 
Don  John  of  Austria.     Philip  was  not  the  man  to  be 
driven  by  the  logic  of  contrition,  or  any  impulse  of 
the  heart,  into  the  public  confession  of  an  error,  and 
to  make  amends  for  it.     He  was  too  much  of  a  royal 
Grandison,  with   a   dash   of   Joseph   Surface.     No 
Falstaff    could    have    been    his    boon    companion, 
and  could  have  induced  him,  in  the  intoxication  of 
wit  and  mirth,  to  perpetrate  any  of  the  follies  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales.     In  his  youth  he  had  been  one  of 
those  well-behaved  lads  who  give  to  old  spinster 
aunts  the  infallible  promise  of  a  virtuous  and  rectan 
gular  life,  and  Charles  had  written  to  him  after  the 
fashion  of  most  fathers  who  have  decent  boys  :  "  On 
the  whole,  I  will  admit  I  have  much  reason  to  be 
satisfied  with  your  conduct.     But  I  would  have  you 
perfect ;  and,  to  speak  frankly,  whatever  other  per 
sons  may  tell  you,  you  have  some  things  to  mend 
yet,     Your  confessor  and  old  preceptor,  the  Bishop 
of  Carthagena,  is  a  good  man,   as   all  the  world 
knows  ;  but  I  hope  that  he  will  take  better  care  of 
your  conscience  than  he  did  of  your  studies,  and 
that  he  will  not  show  quite  as   accommodating  a 
temper  in  regard  to  the  former  as  he  did  to  the 
latter."     We  beg  leave,  with  the  utmost  respect,  to 
differ  with  the  Emperor  in  this  matter.     We  think 
that  the  proficiency  of  Philip  in  his  studies  was,  for  a 
royal  pupil,  creditable  enough  to  the  old  bishop.     As 
to  the  education  which  that  ecclesiastic  gave  to  the 
conscience  which  he  had  under  his  care,  the  world 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  73 

knows  the  results.  We  fancy  that  Philip  always 
held  his  eccentric  and  peculiarly  constituted  con 
science  in  his  own  keeping,  and  that  his  priestly 
preceptor  found  him  more  refractory  on  that  subject 
than  in  learning  his  lessons  in  Latin  prosody. 

Philip  was  but  little  over  sixteen  years  old  when 
he  married  Mary  of  Portugal,  who  died  shortly  after 
giving  birth  to  the  unfortunate  Don  Carlos.  He 
cared  very  little  for  Mary  of  England,  his  second 
wife,  who  doted  on  him  ;  but  he  seems  to  have  been, 
as  far  as  it  was  in  such  a  nature,  a  good  and  indulg 
ent  husband  to  Isabel  of  France  and  to  Ann 
Austria.  /The  writers  of  fiction  have  wronged  Philip 
when  representing  him  as  the  Blue  Beard  of  the 
nursery  tale.  He  has  too  many  real  crimes  to 
answer  for,  without  being  charged  with  imaginary 
guilt.  All  his  wives  were  exemplary,  as  such  ;  and 
the  supposed  amours  of  Isabel  and  Don  Carlos, 
which  are  acceptable  themes  to  poetry,  must  be  re 
jected  by  the  truth-loving  justice  of  history.  It 
may  seem  strange  that  such  an  unlovable  character 
as  Philip  should  have  secured  the  sincere  attach 
ment  of  his  connubial  partners,  but  such  is  the  fact. 
It  is  related  that,  on  his  being  once  dangerously  ill, 
his  fourth  and  last  wife,  Anne  of  Austria,  implored 
the  Almighty  to  spare  a  life  so  important  to  the 
welfare  of  the  Kingdom  and  of  the  Church,  and,  in 
stead  of  it,  to  accept  the  sacrifice  of  her  own. 
"  Heaven,'7  says  the  chronicler,  "  listened  to  her 
prayer.  The  King  recovered,  and  the  Queen  fell 


74  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

ill  of  a  disorder  which,  in  a  few  days,  terminated 
fatally."  Isabel  of  France,  his  third  wife,  had  been 
looked  upon  by  the  country  of  her  adoption  as  an 
angelic  being,  as  perfection  on  earth,  and  she  was 
literally  adored  by  the  Spaniards.  The  soft  emana 
tions  of  her  gentle  heart  seemed  to  warm  the  icy 
atmosphere  of  Philip's  court.  When  the  sun  hangs 
on  the  confines  of  the  Western  horizon,  a  light,  rosy 
cloud  oft  comes  down  from  heaven  and  diffuses  itself 
round  the  snow-capped  diadem  of  the  monarch  of 
the  Alps.  The  Titan  is  lulled  to  repose,  and  smooths 
his  rugged  features  into  celestial  loveliness.  But 
soon  the  vaporous  light  disappears,  and  nothing  is 
left  but  increasing  darkness,  with  the  terrors  of  the 
glacier  and  the  avalanche.  The  benighted  traveler 
shudders,  and  his  heart  grows  cold.  Thus  felt  Spain 
when  Isabel  died,  and  when,  on  his  exalted  and  iso 
lated  throne  above  his  subjects,  Philip  loomed  up 
an  object  of  deeper  gloom  and  more  terrific  aspect. 
It  may  easily  be  conceived  that  such  a  man  as 
Philip  could  not  have  favorites  like  the  effete 
Henry  III.  of  France,  or  friends  like  the  mag 
nanimous  Henry  IY.,  the  white-plumed  hero  of 
Navarre,  both  his  contemporaries.  He  had  none 
but  fawning  courtiers  around  his  person,  for  whom 
his  will  was  law  in  all  matters,  with  the  exception 
of  the  haughty  and  iron  Duke  of  Alva.  The  sub 
tlest  of  them  all  was  one  of  the  ministers,  Ray 
Gomez,  prince  .of  Eboli,  who  from  his  boyhood  to 
his  death  after  a  long  career,  had  been  the  com- 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  75 

panion  of  Philip,  whom  he  had  studied  to  the  very 
marrow  of  his  bones,  whose  humors  he  thoroughly 
understood,  and  whose  favor  he  retained  to  the  last. 
But  Ruy  Gomez  was  neither  a  favorite  nor  a  friend. 
He  was  a  most  skillful  clerk,  a  convenient  tool,  a 
discreet  and  able  adviser,  a  safe  confidant,  a  pleasant 
attendant,  whose  time-piece  was  always  so  set  as  to 
strike  the  hour  which  the  King  desired  to  be  marked 
on  the  dial.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  he  was 
really  liked  by  Philip,  for  he  never  was  dismissed 
from  office  with  one  of  those  withering  smiles  which 
that  Prince  was  known  to  keep  in  reserve  for  those 
who  had  long  appeared  to  enjoy  his  confidence  and 
patronage — a  smile  which  killed  as  surely  as  the 
far-famed  poison  of  the  Borgias/  It  is  true  that  the 
wife  of  Gomez,  the  Princess  of  Eboli,  may  have  been 
the  lightning-rod  which  warded  off  the  thunderbolt 
from  her  husband's  breast.  But  her  subsequent 
misfortunes,  inflicted  by  her  royal  paramour,  leave 
it  in  doubt  to  decide  whether  Philip's  love  and 
Philip's  hatred  were  not  twin-sister  furies,  not  easily 
distinguished  from  each  other,  and  whose  embrace 
was  equally  fatal. 

In  very  few  acts  of  his  life  did  Philip  ever  forget 
his  exalted  station.  The  king  and  the  man  in  him 
were  seldom  found  apart  from  each  other,  and  the 
man  had  a  kind  of  fanatical  reverence  for  the  king. 
Therefore,  although  personally  of  a  frugal  and  un 
ostentatious  disposition,  he  deemed  that  his  royal 
dignity  required  a  household  clothed  in  splendor, 


76  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

and  his  was  constituted  on  a  scale  of  stateliness  and 
magnificence  which  far  surpassed  any  other  in 
Europe.  It  amounted  in  the  number  of  retainers 
to  no  less  than  fifteen  hundred  persons.  The  most 
rigid  and  pompous  etiquette  was  established.  Forty 
pages,  sons  of  the  most  illustrious  houses  of  Castile, 
waited  on  his  person.  Dukes,  whose  pedigree  went 
back  to  Hercules  and  the  demi-gods  of  fabulous  an 
tiquity,  were  his  major-domos  and  gentlemen  of  the 
bed-chamber.  The  chief  muleteer  and  a  host  of 
officers  with  menial  titles  were  nobles  and  cavaliers 
of  gentle  blood.  The  establishment  of  the  Queen  was 
in  the  same  gorgeous  style,  and  she  was  always  at 
tended  by  a  train  of  no  less  than  twenty-six  ladies 
in  waiting.  All  this  display  was  probably  the  re 
sult  of  calculation  rather  than  of  taste,  and  was,  in 
Philip's  estimation,  the  necessary  appendage  to  one 
who  aspired  to  be  King  of  Kings. 

Always  clad  from  head  to  foot  in  an  armor  of  im 
penetrable  and  chilling  reserve,  Philip  had  too  much 
respect  for  himself  to  be  overbearing,  capricious,  or 
impatient  with  his  servants.  It  is  said  that  he  was 
kind  and  liberal  to  them,  and  that  there  was  more 
than  one  occasion  on  which  he  showed  himself  with 
them  a  good-natured  gentleman.  For  instance,  once 
he  had  been  writing  late  through  the  night  some  im- 
portant  dispatch  to  be  sent  in  the  morning.  Ex 
hausted  by  fatigue,  his  Secretary  had  fallen  into  a 
doze  ;  and  when  Philip  handed  the  document  to  him, 
with  a  request  to  throw  sand  over  it,  this  function- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  77 

ary,  in  the  confusion  of  the  moment,  emptied  the 
inkstand  on  the  royal  manuscript.  Philip  coolly  re 
marked  :  '  It  would  have  been  better  to  have  used  the 
sand ;"  and,  without  one  word  of  complaint  or  impa 
tience,  betook  himself  to  rewriting  the  whole  of  the 
letter.  Nevertheless,  we  cannot  but  imagine  that 
his  servants  were  not  much  at  ease  under  the  eye 
of  such  a  master.  One  of  them,  we  are  sure,  must 
have  remembered  to  the  last  day  of  his  life  the  mes 
sage  which  Philip  sent  to  him,  on  discovering  that 
he  had  disturbed  the  methodical  arrangement  in 
which  papers  had  been  left  in  the  royal  closet. 
"Tell  him,"  said  Philip  to  an  attendant,  "that  were 
it  not  in  consideration  of  the  services  of  his  uncle, 
who  has  placed  him  near  my  person,  I  would  have 
ordered  his  head  to  be  cut  off."  This  anecdote  off 
sets  the  other.  Here  the  lion,  there  the  lamb.  On 
another  occasion,  when  on  the  return  to  Spain  of 
Don  John  of  Austria,  after  the  battle  of  Lepanto, 
Philip  had  conducted  him  to  the  apartment  of  the 
Queen  to  be  welcomed  home  by  her,  it  happened  that 
the  sword  of  the  Prince,  on  his  bowing  low  to  her 
Majesty,  was  by  that  motion  of  his  body  suddenly 
pushed  back  in  such  a  way  as  violently  to  strike  the 
King,  who  stood  behind  him,  right  on  the  forehead 
above  the  eye.  The  blow  was  such  as  to  stun  and 
fell  him  to  the  ground.  The  consternation  was  in 
describable.  Don  John  was  beside  himself,  and  pro 
fuse  in  his  expressions  of  deep  regret  and  sorrow. 
"There  is  no  cause  for  such  concern  on  your  part," 


78  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

observed  the  King,  with  his  usual  phlegmatic  de 
meanor  ;  "  it  is  an  accident  for  which  you  are  not 
responsible."  "  0,  sire,"  exclaimed  Don  John,  "  if 
it  had  been  worse,  I  would  have  thrown  myself  out 
of  the  window.71  "And  why?  it  would  not  have 
remedied  anything,"  replied  King  Statue,  with  the 
same  cold  and  metallic  tone  of  voice. 

Philip  was  exceedingly  methodical,  systematic  and 
precise.  So  carefully  set  in  order  were  all  his  vo 
luminous  papers,  that  he  could  at  any  time  indicate 
where  any  one  of  them  was  to  be  found.  It  was  a 
rule  which  he  rigidly  enforced — that  there  should  be 
a  place  for  everything,  and  that  everything  should 
be  in  its  place.  He  fulty  understood  the  value  of 
time,  and  economized  it  as  a  miser  does  his  money. 
His  occupations  and  even  his  pleasures  were  regu 
lated  with  the  utmost  precision.  The  festive  table 
had  no  attraction  for  him.  He  was  prudent  and  ab 
stemious  in  his  diet.  After  the  slight  repast  which 
constituted  his  dinner,  he  gave  audience  to  his  sub 
jects  and  received  their  memorials.  On  those  occa 
sions  he  attempted  to  be  gracious  ;  but  graciousness 
sat  awkwardly  on  Philip.  It  was  an  unnatural  con 
junction — a  ray  of  the  sun  imprisoned  in  an  icicle. 
He  listened  patiently,  it  is  true  ;  but  his  countenance 
was  so  exceedingly  grave,  that  the  boldest  was 
abashed,  and  felt  as  if  the  ground  was  giving  way 
under  his  feet.  The  hand  of  the  supplicant  trembled 
on  his  delivering  his  petition,  his  tongue  faltered  in 
pressing  his  suit,  and  the  chilling  tone  with  which 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  79 

Philip  said  :  "  Compose  yourself,"  increased  his  con 
fusion.  It  was  as  if  a  marble  statue  had  spoken,  and 
the  suitor  was  glad  to  back  out  of  the  presence  of 
petrified  royalty,  and  to  retreat  where  something 
like  the  intonations  of  the  human  voice  were  heard, 
and  human  sympathies  expressed.  Even  a  Papal 
Nuncio  forgot  in  his  presence  what  he  had  to  say  ; 
and  although  Philip  kindly  said,  "  If  you  will  bring 
it  in  writing,  I  will  read  it  myself,  and  expedite  your 
business,"  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  representa 
tive  of  the  Pope  thought  this  defender  of  the  faith 
and  dutiful  son  of  the  Church  as  grim-looking  a  per 
sonage  as  any  of  those  dreaded  beings  whom  she 
was  occasionally  called  upon  to  exorcise  with  bell, 
book,  and  holy  water. 

Philip  was  said  to  be  indolent  because  he  had  a 
horror  of  locomotion  and  could  seldom  be  prevailed 
upon  to  travel,  even  when  it  was  required  by  the 
most  pressing  exigencies  of  State.  But  this  indo 
lence  of  the  body  was  combined  with  the  most  rest 
less  activity  of  the  mind.  He  toiled  day  and  night, 
and  never  was  known  to  utter  an  exclamation  of 
weariness.  He  seemed  to  delight  in  the  multitude 
of  business,  as  a  lion-hearted  warrior  grows  more 
fierce  when  the  battle  thickens  upon  him.  Perhaps 
Philip,  who  boasted  that,  without  moving  from  his 
closet,  he  shook  the  world  with  a  scrap  of  paper, 
was  pleased  with  the  idea  that  he  personated  Fate 
immutably  seated  on  a  rock,  whilst  weaving  the  web 
of  human  destinies.  As  he  advanced  in  age,  he  be- 


I 


80  PIIILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN. 

came  less  easy  of  access  and  more  averse  to  motion. 
His  public  audiences  were  infrequent,  and,  in  the  be 
ginning  of  summer,  he  would  escape  from  them  by 
retreating  to  one  of  his  country  palaces,  particularly 
to  the  Escorial,  his  beloved  creation ;  not,  however, 
to  admire  the  beauties  of  nature,  but  to  be  more 
free  from  the  contact  of  man.  When  in  Madrid,  he 
shrank  from  the  eye  of  the  public  as  from  that  of  a 
basilisk,  commonly  went  out  in  a  close  carriage,  and 
waited  for  the  congenial  shades  of  night  to  return 
to  his  palace  with  the  silent  wings  of  an  ill-omened 
bird  of  darkness. 

The  Cortes  made  it  a  matter  of  complaint  that  he 
Mthdrew  from  the  eyes  of  his  subjects,  and  would 
/  nave  been  well  pleased  if  he  had  occasionally  ap- 
7   peared  in  different  parts  of  Spain,  to  judge  for  him- 
/    self  of  the  resources  and  wants  of  the  country.    But 
he  paid  no  more  attention  to  the  representations  of 
the  Cortes  on  this  subject,  than  he  generally  did  to 
every  other  on  which  they  addressed  him.     He  was 
willing  that  they  should  remonstrate  humbly  and 
respectfully,  provided  it  was  understood  by  them  to 
be  a  mere  ceremony.     It  was  a  sort  of  arrangement 
with  which  he  was  even  gratified  ;  for  it  kept  up  aa 
appearance  of  liberty  on  the  side  of  the  people,  and 
of  benevolent  condescension  on  his  part.     He  con 
tinued,  however,  to  make  himself  more  and  more 
invisible,  and  contented  himself  with  being  felt.     As 
a  recreation  and  exercise,  he  would  sometimes  go 
to  one  of  his  country-seats  near  Madrid,  where  he 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  81 

would  shoot  with  a  gun  or  a  cross-bow  at  the  game 
which  was  driven  to  his  presence.  Even  on  those 
occasions  Philip,  who  always  carried  with  him  a 
mass  of  papers,  would  soon  turn  away  from  the 
sport,  to  examine  into  some  serious  or  intricate  mat 
ters  of  State.  He  was  too  mighty  and  too  keen  a 
hunter  of  men  to  find  any  relish  in  the  less  exciting 
pursuit  of  the  wild  beasts  of  the  forest.  But  there 
was  one  amusement  for  which  Philip  had  a  real  pas 
sion.  It  was  one  which  the  Inquisition,  who  knew 
well  the  royal  inclinations,  took  care  to  afford  him 
on  days  of  extraordinary  rejoicings,  such  as  the  cel 
ebration  of  his  marriages,  the  birth  of  his  children, 
or  any  thanksgiving  for  some  unusual  blessing. 
That  entertainment  was  the  burning  of  heretics. 
The  rank  and  qualifications  of  the  victims,  with  other 
circumstances,  were  generally  such  as  to  enhance 
the  interest  of  the  lurid  scene,  and  there  were  in  all 
the  details  of  the  offered  feast  an  appropriate  selec 
tion  and  magnificence  of  horrors  which  did  credit  to 
the  dramatic  skill  of  the  Inquisition,  and  which  were 
intended  to  produce  the  desired  impression  on  the 
royal  spectator.  If  Philip  felt  any  emotion  what 
ever  on  witnessing  such  exhibitions,  his  countenance 
did  not  allow  the  secret  to  transpire.  There  he  sat 
in  conspicuous  pre-eminence,  the  observed  of  all, 
stern,  silent,  almost  motionless,  and  to  all  appear 
ances  with  his  usual  stony  impassiveness.  We  im 
agine  that  his  satisfaction  must  have  diffused  itself 
inwardly,  and  must  have  derived  additional  zest 

6 


82  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

from  the  conviction  that,  on  these  occasions,  pleasure 
and  duty  went  hand-in-hand  together  like  a  loving 
married  couple  returning  from  the  parish  church.  It 
is  this  perfect  accord  of  his  conscience  and  his  taste 
which  perhaps  recommended  these  spectacles  to  his 
preference.  Who  knows  but  he  may  have  thought 
that  those  victims,  sacrificed  to  Jehovah  and  snatched 
from  the  perdition  of  heresy,  would  rise  with  the 
white  robes  of  innocence  from  the  purifying  flames, 
and  would  attend  him  as  a  body-guard  when  he 
should  appear  before  the  judgment-seat  of  the  Eter 
nal,  circling  in  serried  ranks  round  his  sins  as  a  pro 
tective  phalanx  of  expiation  ?  Be  it  as  it  may,  when 
with  the  mind's  eye  we  see  Philip  presiding  at  these 
holocausts  of  fanaticism,  we  cannot  but  fancy  that 
there  stands  before  our  dismayed  vision  one  of  those 
horrible  Mexican  deities  of  his  own  dominions,  whose 
nostrils  were  regaled  with  the  fumes  of  blood,  and 
whose  sight  was  rejoiced  with  the  offering  of  warm 
and  still  palpitating  hearts,  torn  by  priestly  hands 
from  living  breasts. 

The  Marquis  of  Custine,  in  his  work  entitled 
"  Spain  Under  Ferdinand  VII.,V  says  in  relation  to 
Philip  :  "  This  King,  who  used  his  power  on  earth  to 
prepare  for  himself  a  seat  in  Heaven,  may  have 
often  deceived  himself,  but  in  his  errors  there  was 
at  least  nothing  that  was  mean.  If  he  was  cruel,  it 
was  after  the  fashion  of  one  who  performs  a  duty. 
Therefore  the  terror  with  which  I  am  inspired  by 
his  name  will  not  be  unmixed  with  pity,  as  long  as 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  83 

it  is  not  fully  proved  to  me  that  he  ever  committed 
a  crime  which  did  not  mainly  originate  in  a  scruple 
of  conscience."  If  this  be  true,  it  would  solve  the 
enigma  of  the  virtuous  tranquillity  and  magnificent 
fortitude  of  his  death.  We  may  be  permitted,  how 
ever,  to  exclaim  :  What  a  terrible  conscience  that 
man  had !  From  some  preceding  remarks  it  may 
be  seen,  that  we  are  not  disposed  to  reject  altogether 
the  view  taken  by  the  French  author  of  Philip's 
character.  In  some  of  his  acts,  crimsoned  with 
blood  as  they  are,  Philip  may  have  been  guided  by 
his  conscience.  It  must  be  remembered  that  he 
more  than  once  asseverated  that  he  would  sur 
render  his  kingdoms — nay — life  itself,  rather  than 
reign  over  heretics  ;  and  if  he  put  Don  Carlos  to 
death,  he  may  really  have  thought  with  his  apolo 
gist,  the  priest  Salazar  de  Mendoza,  blasphemous  as 
the  sentiment  is,  that  "  in  making  a  sacrifice  of  his 
son,  he  rivaled  in  sublimity  that  of  Isaac  by 
Abraham,  and  even  of  Jesus  Christ  by  the 
Almighty."  This  would  be  a  remarkable  aberra 
tion  of  the  intellect,  but  it  is  not  inexplicable  in 
Philip,  when  it  is  kept  in  mind  that  his  royal  line 
sprang  from  insanity  in  the  person  of  his  grand 
mother,  Joanna  of  Castile,  and  that  it  ended  as  it 
had  begun — in  the  idiotic  madness  of  the  wretched 
Charles  the  Second,  the  last  scion  of  the  House  of 
Austria  on  the  throne  of  Spain. 

The  memory  of  Philip  is  more  popular  in  Spain 
than  that  of  Charles  Y.,  although  his  reign  is  far  less 


84  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

brilliauL.  __  The  reasoft~Qf~this  is,  that  the  Spaniards 
have  always^CQiiSLde^ed  Philip  as-ose-^f  them,  and 
j01ia}4#s--4i£_ji_Jo^  one  not  identified  with 

their  interests,  their  language,  their  feelings,  their 
prejudices,  their  habits  and  their  morals  ;  whilst 
Philip  was  emphatically  a  production  of  their  coun 
try  —  one  to  the  manner  born  —  and  the  embodiment 
of  their  nationality.  Charley  wa.sra.ther  the  jEmper- 
of  -Q-ermuny  thaa  -the  King  of  Spainjwhilst  the 
crown  inherited  from  Ferdinand  and  Isabel  was 
more  precious  in  Philip's  estimation  than  all  the 
other  kingdoms  of  the  earth.  Spain  was  for  Charles 
no  more  than  one  of  the1  gems  of  his  imperial  jewel- 
box  ;  for  Philip  it  was  the  principal  gem,  and  far 
more  valuable  than  the  jewel-box  itself,  with  all 
the  rest  of  its  contenis^JEHs  rejgn  was  absolutely 
Spanjsh  __  -Neither  IB  his  Court  nor 


in  his  councils  did  he  allow  the  influence  of  foreign 
ers  to  prevail.  His  father  had  done  the  reverse. 
So  identified  was  Philip  with  Spain,  that  he  could 
hardly  breathe  and  live  when  not  within  its  hallow 
ed  frontiers.  When  he  went  beyond  them,  which 
happened  but  rarely,  he  seemed  out  of  his  element, 
and  hastened  to  return,  frequently  at  the  sacrifice 
of  important  interests,  to  the  congenial  atmosphere 
for  which  he  panted.  When  reading  his  history, 
we  see  what  powerful  reasons  united  at  times  to  call 
him  out  of  Spain,  and  what  pressing  and  incessant 
solicitations  added  their  force  to  the  influence  of 
these  reasons.  We  know  what  promises  he  made 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  85 

to  yield  to  them,  and  we  also  know  that  he  never 
could  summon  resolution  enough  to  keep  those 
engagements  and  to  lose  sight  of  his  beloved  Esco- 
rial.  Charles,  on  the  contrary,  felt  uncomfortable  in 
Spain,  and  never  was  more  cheerful  than  when 
rushing  to  his  Flemish  or  German  dominions.  In 
the  language  of  a  Spanish  historian,  if  Philip  had 
subjugated  Europe,  he  would  have  made  it  Spanish, 
whilst  Charles  would  have  made  it  German.  Under 
the  reign  of  Charles,  the  blood  arid  wealth  of  Spain 
were  lavished  to  support  German  or  other  foreign 
interests,  and  in  furtherance  of  the  personal  or 
family  ambition  of  the  Sovereign.  Spain  occupied  a 
subordinate  position  in  the  plans  of  the  great  Em 
peror.  In  JBluJiglsjK^^ 

paramount  to  everything  else.  It  is  the  conscious 
ness  of  this  fact  which  has  almost  endeared  the 
memory  of  Philip  to  every  Spaniard,  notwithstand 
ing  his  crimes  and  the  terror  attached  to  his  name. 
Spaniards  will  easily  forgive  many  sins  in  one  whom 
they  consider  SQ  intensely  Spanish.  Hence  they 
complain  that  Philip  is  treated  with  undue  severity 
by  foreign  writers.  They  say  that  his  general  char 
acter  was  at  least  no  worse  than  that  of  most  of  the 
Sovereigns  of  the  epoch.  They  point  to  Henry  VIII. 
of  England,  who,  with  the  same  pen  with  which  he 
wrote  against  Luther,  issued  a  decree  by  which  he 
adopted  his  doctrines,  made  them  the  religious  creed 
of  the  State,  and  gave  himself  to  his  subjects  the  ex 
ample  of  the  abjuration  of  a  former  faith,  not  because 


86  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

he  had  changed  his  convictions  conscientiously,  but 
because  the  Pope  had  refused  to  sanction  his  divorce 
from  a  virtuous  wife.  Henry  YIIL  ! — who  success 
ively  sent  to  the  scaffold  the  objects  of  his  insatiable 
lust,  and  who,  with  impartial  ferocity,  condemned  to 
the  stake  seventy  thousand  Catholics  and  Protest 
ants.  They  ask  if  Cardinal  Fisher  and  the  illus 
trious  Thomas  More  and  many  other  victims  were 
not  as  guiltless  as  Horn  and  Egmont.  They  ask  if 
Cardinal  Wolsey  was  not  truer  to  Henry  than  An 
tonio  Perez  to  Philip,  and  if  the  King  of  England 
was  a  better  man  than  the  King  of  Spain  ?  What 
of  bloody  Mary?  Did  she  not  send  her  sister 
Elizabeth  to  a  dungeon,  and  threaten  her  life  ?  What 
Became  of  Lady  Grey,  of  her  father  and  husband  ? 
What  became  of  Warwick,  of  Piat  and  of  Bishop 
Cranmer  ?  Are  they  less  to  be  pitied  than  Mon- 
tigny  ?  Were  not  hundreds  of  her  subjects  burned 
without  mercy  ?  Had  she  not  organized  an  army 
of  hangmen  whose  standard  was  the  gallows  ?  Had 
not,  under  her  reign,  the  axe  of  the  public  execu 
tioner  become  the  sceptre  of  England?  What  of 
Scotland  ?  Were  her  rulers  more  tender-hearted  ? 
Were  not  adultery  and  murder  seated  on  her 
throne,  whilst  round  it  the  weird  sisters,  with  their 
choppy  fingers  on  their  lips,  led  their  hideous  dance  ? 
Was  not  the  great  Elizabeth  as  perfidious  as  Philip, 
and  far  more  licentious  ?  Was  she  not  as  cruel,  she 
whom  poetry  represents  as  a  "  fair  vestal  throned 
by  the  West,'7  but  whom  history  brands  as  "  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  87 

mistress  of  nine  acknowledged  lovers  ? "  Her  father 
beheaded  his  wives.  Was  she  less  infamous  and 
heartless  when  doing  the  same  office  to  her  para 
mours  ?  Philip  despotically  struck  off  the  head  of  the 
patriot  Lanuza.  Was  Elizabeth  less  arbitrary  in 
many  of  her  acts  ?  What  account  has  she  to  render 
of  Norfolk,  of  Essex,  of  Kaleigh,  and  of  so  many 
other  illustrious  magnates  who  had  adorned  her 
court  and  basked  in  her  smiles?  When  Philip 
offered  a  reward  for  the  head  of  Orange,  one  of  his 
rebellious  subjects,  was  he  more  criminal  than  Eliza 
beth,  when,  under  the  hypocritical  appearance  of  a 
trial,  she,  with  feigned  tears,  murdered  her  kinswo 
man,  who  was  her  guest,  and  a  crowned  head  like 
herself?  Had  not  the  two  heroes,  Alexander  Far- 
nese  and  Don  John  of  Austria,  entertained  the  full 
conviction,  founded  on  what  they  considered  unde 
niable  proofs,  that  she  had  bribed  assassins  to  take 
away  their  lives  in  the  Netherlands  ?  * 

Turning  to  France,  the  Spanish  historians  inquire 
if  her  chivalrous  Francis  I.  had  not  many  crimes  to 
answer  for.  Was  not  his  ceaseless  persecution  of 
the  Constable  of  Bourbon  merely  to  serve  the 
vengeance  of  the  rejected  love  of  his  mother,  as 
reprehensible  as  it  was  fatal  to  France  ?  Did  he  not, 
to  meet  the  expenses  occasioned  by  his  extravagant 
tastes  and  unrestrained  passions,  put  up  the  royal 
favors  at  auction,  even  in  the  distribution  of  judicial 

*  History  of  Spain,  by  Modesto  de  Lafuente. 


88  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

offices  ?  Did  he  not  convert  his  Court  into  a  place 
of  shameless  prostitution  ?  Did  he  not,  when  Diana 
of  Poitiers,  the  wife  of  one  of  his  most  devoted  nobles, 
knelt  at  his  feet  to  beg  for  the  life  of  her  father, 
make  adultery  the  condition  of  the  solicited  pardon  ? 
Did  Philip  ever  do  anything  more  basely  horrible  ? 
Was  Francis  less  imperious  than  the  Spanish  Sov 
ereign,  when  he  said  to  his  Parliament :  "I  consent 
to  your  addressing  remonstrances  to  me  ;  but  when 
I  do  not  choose  to  defer  to  them,  I  want  instant  obedi 
ence  ?  This  warning  ought  to  suffice.  Remember 
that  you  derive  your  authority  from  me.  Do  not 
imagine  yourselves  to  be  the  Roman  Senate."  Did 
not  Francis,  whilst  he  was  keeping  up  a  correspond 
ence  with  Melancthon  and  inviting  him  to  establish 
his  domicile  in  France,  whilst  he  was  forming  trea 
ties  of  alliance  with  the  Sultan  and  the  Protestant 
Princes  of  Germany  against  Catholic  powers,  have 
six  Protestants  burned  in  his  presence  in  Paris 
with  refinements  of  cruelty  unknown  in  Madrid,  and 
after  having  exhibited  himself  in  a  farcical  procession 
surrounded  with  all  sorts  of  relics  in  which  he  cer 
tainly  did  not  believe  like  the  fanatic  Philip  ;  for  he 
had  once  threatened  the  Pope  to  become  a  Protest 
ant  like  his  "  dear  brother  "  Henry  VIII.  of  England  ? 
Did  he  not  declare  on  that  occasion,  as  Philip  did 
afterward  in  imitation  of  such  a  precedent,  that 
"  he  would  treat  his  children  in  the  same  manner, 
if  they  became  tainted  with  heresy  ?  "  Did  he  not 
declare  that  those  who  should  not  denounce  heretics 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  89 

should  also  be  burned?  Did  he  not  grant  to  the 
denunciators  of  those  who  should  swerve  from  the 
Catholic  faith  one-fourth  of  all  the  property  of  the 
accused  in  case  of  conviction  ?  Was  not  the  Count 
of  Montecuculli  horribly  tortured  and  then  quartered 
on  mere  suspicions  ?  Was  Francis  a  faithful  ob 
server  of  his  plighted  word  ?  Was  he  bound 
by  the  most  solemn  oath  ?  Did  he  not  die  at  last 
the  victim  of  his  crapulous  amours?  Did  Philip 
ever  give  to  society  such  examples  of  demoraliza 
tion  ?  Was  it  not  of  Francis  that  a  French  histo 
rian  has  said  :  "  France  will  long  remember  his  reign 
stained  with  all  the  vices  which  disgrace  those  incon 
stant,  credulous,  and  vain  monarchs  who  are  inca 
pable  of  acquiring  experience  or  the  knowledge  of 
men  ? 7;*  What  of  Henry  II.  and  of  his  horrible 
edicts  against  the  Protestants  of  France  ?  What  of 
their  wholesale  massacre  which  he  had  planned  ? 
What  of  his  morals  ?  What  of  the  infernal  Cathe 
rine  de  Medici?  What  of  Charles  JX.  with  his  St< 
Bartholomew  ?  What  of  the  famous  window  from 
which  he  amused  himself  with  firing  at  his  subjects 
as  if  they  had  been  lawful  game  for  his  carbine  ? 
What  of  Henry  III.,  whom  his  own  countrymen  had 
surnamed  " Herod*?"  What  of  his  impurities? 
What  of  his-  assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Guise  arid 
of  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  ?  Passing  in  review  the 
other  Sovereigns  of  Europe  at  that  time,  the  apolo- 

*  Velly.    Histoire  de  France,  p.  147,  vol.  VII. 


90  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

gists  of  Philip  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was 
not  so  pre-eminently  wicked  as  to  justly  concentrate 
upon  himself  all  the  hatred  of  mankind,  and  deservo 
a  severer  judgment  from  history  than  all  the  rest  of 
his  royal  brothers.     They  seem  to  contend  that  bad 
example  and  the  spirit  of  the  age  must  in  part  be 
answerable  for  the  crimes  of  Philip.     All  this  may 
be  true,  but  there  is  this  difference  between  Philip 
and  those  personages  whom  we  have   enumerated. 
We  remain  conscious,  when  reading  their  history, 
that  they  may  have  been  carried  away  by  passion, 
and  that  their  guilt  is  not  incapable  of  remorse,  of 
repentance,  of  atonement,  of  self-condemnation.     We 
feel  that  there  is  flesh  and  blood  in  them  ;  they  are 
criminal  after  the  fashion  of  human  beings  ;  Philip, 
after   the   fashion  of  a  demon  who  has  nothing  in 
common  with  our  race  in  his  cool  and  scientific  pre 
meditation.      That  man  is  surrounded  with  myste 
rious  horrors  like  something  unearthly.    There  is  in 
him  no  soul,  no  heart,  no  feeling  ;  all  is  dead.     The 
vampire  is  no  longer  fabulous,  but  stands  before  us  ; 
and  our  awe  increases  when  we  see  him  gorged  with 
blood,  reposing  in  the  lap  of  crime  with  the  self- 
approbation  of  the  performance  of  duty,  the  compla 
cency  of  fancied  righteousness,  and  the  sweet  tran 
quillity  of  conscious  innocence. 

Another  reason  for  the  popularity  of  Philip's 
memory  in  Spain  is  the  recollection  that,  during  his 
reign,  the  preponderance  of  that  country  in  Europe 
reached  its  climax.  For  the  first  time  since  the  fall 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  91 

of  the  dynasty  of  Rhoderic  the  Goth,  the  Iberian 
Peninsula  had  been  united  under  one  sceptre — a 
consummation  which  had  been  long  desired,  and  which 
to  this  day  is  the  aspiration  nearest  the  heart  of 
every  Spanish  statesman.  Besides,  by  her  arms 
and  her  literature  the  influence  of  Spain  had  become 
supreme  over  the  civilized  world.  After  having 
added  to  her  immense  colonial  acquisitions  the  vast 
possessions  of  Portugal  in  Asia,  Africa,  and  Amer 
ica,  well  might  she  boast  that  the  sun  never  set  in 
her  dominions.  So  great  had  been  the  power  of 
Philip  at  one^^dme^that  it  was  apprehended  he 
might  realize  the  dream^of  a  uiiiversa±~Tfionarchy. 
Twice  his  armies  had  maf^hi3^Mo^tn^^t^itid-^f^ 
France,  which  he  used  to  designate  as  "  his  beautiful 
city  of  Paris,"  and  which  he  had  once  garrisoned 
with  his  troops.  All  eyes  for  years  had  been  turned 
with  fear  toward  Madrid.  Spain  was  then  what 
France  became  under  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  and 
under  Napoleon  the  Great  in  the  19th  century — a 
colossus  before  whom  the  world  trembled.  With  a 
handful  of  men  she  had  performed  exploits  and 
accomplished  conquests  which  staggered  belief,  and 
threw  into  the  shade  the  most  fabulous  achievements 
of  the  heroes  of  antiquity.  Not  only  had  she  expell 
ed  the  infidels  from  her  bosom  after  eight  hundred 
years  of  indefatigable  and  incessant  wars,  but  she 
had  become  the  bulwark  of  Christianity  at  Lepanto, 
at  Malta,  in  Hungary,  wherever  the  Crescent  had 
threatened  the  Cross.  The  Pactolus  of  mythology 


92  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

literally  flowed  at  her  feet  from  the  mountains  of 
Peru  and  Mexico.  Her  fleets  lorded  over  the  seas. 
The  heavy  weight  of  the  Spanish  heel  had  been  felt 
everywhere,  like  that  of  the  Roman  in  the  days  of 
Augustus,  and  the  tone  of  command  of  Spanish 
chiefs  had  sounded  as  haughty  as  any  which  had 
ever  issued  from  the  Eternal  City.  Besides,  the 
superiority  of  her  statesmanship  and  of  her  litera 
ture  was  universally  acknowledged.  She  gave  the 
tone  to  Europe.  Her  language  was  the  one  which 
had  spread  the  most.  Her  manners,  her  costumes, 
her  fashions,  her  tastes,  her  ideas  preponderated  in 
the  saloons  of  diplomacy,  in  the  mansions  of  the 
noble  and  wealthy,  in  the  humble  dwellings  of  the 
poor,  in  the  studio  of  the  artist,  in  the  attics  of  the 
poet,  in  the  theatres,  and  in  all  the  fields  of  litera 
ture.  Even  now,  in  many  of  the  cities  of  France, 
the  traces  of  Spanish  dominion  are  still  visible  in 
the  architecture  which  meets  the  eye  of  the  traveler. 
At  that  epoch,  the  power  and  the  glory  of  Spain  had 
reached  their  meridian  splendor,  to  be  obscured 
ever  since  in  their  rapid  decline,  until  lately  arrest 
ed.  Philip's  reign  had  been  the  culminating  point 
at  which  her  fortune,  like  a  dazzling  meteor,  had 
rested  awhile  before  sliding  downward,  to  her  morti 
fication,  into  the  morasses  and  quagmires  of  national 
debility  and  decay,  pence  Spaniards  cling  to  the 
recollections  of  that  reign  with  patriotic  tenacity, 
and  seem  anxious  to  ward  off  from  its  escutcheon  all 
that  might  dim  its  lustre.  We  sympathize  with 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  93 

what  is  praiseworthy  in  this  feeling  ;  but,  guided  by 
the  impartiality  and  the  love  of  truth  which  ought 
to  be  the  main  characteristics  of  the  historian,  we 
shall  now  take  a  brief  view  of  the  long  reign  of 
Philip,  and  ascertain  what  amount  of  commendation 
and  censure  it  deserves  at  our  hands. 

Broken  down  by  infirmities,  defeated  in  most  of 
his  ambitious  schemes,  Charles  Y.  had  abdicated  the 
imperial  crown,  and  delivered  into  the  younger 
haadg:ft(  Philip  the-  scejjjEre' of  Spam.  Cbarles^when 
he  ascended  the  throne  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabel, 
had  found  that  country  in  a  state  of  transformation 
and  transition.  All  the  small  Christian  kingdoms 
which  had  divided  the  Peninsula  for  centuries,  and 
had  been  so  long  waging  war  against  each  other, 
had  been  absorbed  into  one.  The  last  of  the  Mos 
lem  principalities  had  fallen  with  Granada.  The 
sword  of  Chivalry,  in  a  struggle  which  for  its  dura 
tion  was  without  a  precedent,  had  reconquered  for 
the  Cross  one  of  the  most  beautiful  parts  of  Europe, 
from  the  Pyrenees  to  the  banks  of  the  Tagus,  and  to 
the  rock  of  Gibraltar.  Unknown  seas  had  been 
explored  ;  unknown  countries  had  been  discovered  ; 
unknown  kingdoms,  the  hereditary  domains  of  pow 
erful  princes,  had  been  subdued  in  a  new  world,  and 
millions  of  infidels,  either  converted  to  the  Christian 
faith,  or  driven  away  from  the  bloody  altars  of  their 
idols,  when  not  crushed  into  destruction  under  the 
iron-clad  foot  of  their  conquerors.  A  steady  stream 
of  gold,  broad  and  deep,  was  flowing  into  the  lap  of 


94  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

Spain,  as  the  guerdon  for  her  valor  and  enterprise. 
Impatient  of  repose,  bursting  as  it  were  with  exu 
berant  strength,  she  had  leaped  over  the  Pyrenees, 
and  fought  France  on  her  own  territory  with  signal 
success.  She  had  crossed  the  Mediterranean,  subju 
gated  Sicily,  invaded  Italy,  and  although  confronted 
there  by  the  intrepidity  and  skill  of  French  legions, 
she  had  proved  irresistible,  and  the  kingdom  of  Na 
ples  had  remained  the  trophy  of  her  prowess.  She 
had  landed  in  Africa  in  pursuit  of  the  dismayed 
Moors  ;  the  battle-cry  of  the  Christian  knight  had 
been  shouted  on  the  ruins  of  Carthaginian  splendor, 
and  the  flag  of  Castile  raised  over  the  soil  which  had 
given  birth  to  Hannibal.  At  Rome,  in  the  Vatican, 
her  desires  were  beginning  to  assume  the  shape  of 
orders,  and  she  had  taught  the  Pope  that  the  king 
doms  of  the  earth  were  no  longer  fiefs  of  the  Tiara. 
Europe  was  taken  by  surprise  and  amazed  at  the 
sudden  apparition  of  the  Power  that  had  so  abruptly 
started  into  active  life  from  behind  those  gigantic 
ribs  of  the  earth  which  Providence  seems  to  have 
extended,  like  a  massive  fortification,  from  the  Med 
iterranean  shore  to  the  Atlantic,  with  some  special 
purpose  of  protection  to  a  chosen  people.  If  Spain 
was  not  Pallas,  springing  from  the  disrupted  brow  of 
Jupiter,  and  received  by  Olympus  and  admiring 
nations,  as  the  acknowledged  goddess  of  wisdom  in 
the  panoply  of  war,  she  certainly  was  the  heroine 
of  Christianity,  wielding  in  her  robust  faith  the  lance 
of  Ithuriel,  sallying  in  the  romantic  spirit  of  true 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  95 

chivalry  in  quest  of  adventures  for  the  honor  of  the 
Mother  of  God,  wearing  her  colors  as  those  of  the 
proclaimed  Lady  of  her  love  and  allegiance,  arid  be 
lieving,  like  the  Hebrews,  in  the  special  and  constant 
interposition  of  Heaven.  Such  was  the  appearance 
which  she  presented  externally,  and  well  might 
Europe  be  struck  with  admiration  and  fear.  It  was 
no  mean  champion  who  had  entered  the  arena,  and 
flung  down  his  gauntlet  in  the  contest  of  national 
ambition  and  supremacy. 

Internally,  Charles  had  found  royal  authority 
stronger  than  it  had  been  for  centuries,  and  reposing 
on  a  solid  basis  —  that  of  an  undisputed  hereditary 
succession  rooted  in  the  affection  and  veneration  of 
a  loyal  and  enthusiastic  people.  Jjrod  and  the  King^ 

to  beJjiejTLnttn  nf  pvpry  trne  Rpn.-nia.rfl. 


A  turbulent,  proud  and  wealthy  nobility  no  longer 
overshadowed  the  throne,  but,  curbed  into  respectful 
and  devoted  allegiance,  had  become  the  Corinthian 
pillars  of  social  architecture,  instead  of  being  its 
battering-rams.  The  clergy,  among  whom  salutary 
reforms  had  taken  place,  and  who  had  virtuous,  en 
lightened  and  devout  men  at  their  head,  were  work 
ing  in  strict  subordination  to  the  Crown,  and  actively 
engaged  in  propagating  the  Catholic  faith,  in  reform 
ing  the  people,  and  in  striving  to  convert  the  re 
cently  conquered  Moslem,  although  after  having  com 
mitted  the  fatal  and  unchristian  error  of  seducing 
the  pious  Isabel  into  establishing  the  Inquisition. 
That  institution  was,  however,  in  its  infancy,  and 


96  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

had  not,  therefore,  begun  to  display  the  terrific  vigor 
which  afterward  struck  the  world  with  terror. 
The  Commons  were  possessed  of  privileges,  fran 
chises  and  liberties  which  existed  nowhere  else  at 
the  time,  save,  perhaps,  in  the  Netherlands  and 
Switzerland  ;  the  peasantry  were  as  brave,  as  court 
eous,  as  punctilious  on  the  code  of  honor  as  the  most 
high-born  and  polished  knight,  and  as  proud  and 
dignified  in  their  humble  station  as  any  Caesar  who 
ever  wore  the  purple  mantle.  In  the  interior  of  the 
land  as  on  the  sea-shore,  in  the  cultivated  field  as  in 
the  depth  of  the  forest,  on  the  mountain  as  on  the 
river  bank,  in  villages  as  in  cities,  there  had  sprung 
up  a  spirit  of  industry  and  enterprise  which  had 
been  unknown  for  many  ages.  The  sword  of  the 
warrior,  it  is  true,  was  still  of  primary  importance 
and  an  object  of  special  admiration,  but  the  loom  of 
the  artisan  and  the  plow  of  the  husbandman  had  at 
last  attracted  the  attention  of  the  rulers  of  the  land. 
Commerce,  trade  and  manufactures  were  rising  to 
no  slight  degree  of  consideration.  In  a  country 
hitherto  convulsed  with  the  shock  of  arms  and  irri 
gated  with  blood  for  centuries,  a  national  literature 
had  suddenly  sprung  up,  vigorous  in  its  infancy,  and 
full  of  promises  of  future  and  lasting  glory.  The 
fine  arts,  better  appreciated  than  those  of  the  me 
chanic  order,  had  made  their  welcome  appearance, 
had  been  received  not  only  as  beloved  and  admired 
guests,  but  had  also  been  presented  with  letters  of 
naturalization,  and  were  shedding  their  benign  and 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  97 

humanizing  influence  on  the  former  scenes  of  pro 
tracted  wars.  Spaniards  were  no  longer  to  be  looked 
upon  as  divided  into  petty  tribes,  temporarily  asso 
ciated  in  bands  of  rude  cut-throats — now  engaged 
in  an  insane  mutuality  of  slaughter — now  uniting  in 
a  holy  league  to  endeavor  to  drive  out  of  their  native 
soil  the  invaders  who  had,  from  the  remotest  an 
tiquity,  so  long  threatened  them  with  entire  annihi 
lation.  They  had  aggregated  themselves  into  a 
single,  powerful  and  polished  nation,  although  dwell 
ing  in  distant  Kingdoms  and  Provinces  which  had 
retained  their  own  peculiar  laws  and  characteristics. 
It  was  rather  a  Confederacy  of  Sovereignties  under 
one  ruler,  than  a  consolidated  Government.  There 
was  unity  in  the  head,  it  is  true,  but  there  was  plu 
rality  and  individuality  in  the  limbs,  organs  and  fea 
tures  of  the  associated  and  welded  bodies.  All  the 
elements  of  a  vigorous  nationality  were  at  hand — a 
territory  capable  of  uniting  on  its  surface  almost  all 
the  productions  of  the  earth,  teeming  in  its  entrails 
with  all  the  metals  required  by  the  industry  of  man, 
indented  with  an  extraordinary  number  of  magnifi 
cent  harbors,  and  inclosed  by  seas  and  lofty  mount 
ains  which  protect  it  against  the  hostility  of  the  rest 
of  mankind  ;  an  immemorial  community  of  sufferings 
and  of  triumphs,  of  humiliation  and  glory,  of  tradi 
tional  and  historical  lore,  of  hatred  for  the  foreign 
foe,  and  a  vast  fund  of  that  melancholy  experience 
which  results  from  the  evils  of  fratricidal  struggles  • 
an  intense  love  for  old  customs  and  habits,  which 


98  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

does  not  exclude  those  innovations  demanded  by  the 
march  of  civilization,  but  which,  venerating  the  past 
as  the  tomb  of  a  cherished  ancestry,  secures  thereby 
to  future  generations  prosperity  at  home,  respect 
abroad,  and  a  long  life  in  the  land  ;  a  spirit  of  chiv 
alry  carried  even  to  excess,  but  beautiful  in  its  aber 
rations  ;  the  sacred  importance  of  family  ties  and 
the  worship  of  the  Household  Gods  taught  from  the 
cradle,  without  which  the  social  order  is  destitute  of 
stability  and  loses  its  most  amiable  charms  ;  an  in 
nate  spirit  of  religion,  deeply  imbedded  in  every 
heart  and  almost  incarnated  in  every  Spaniard  ; 
strong  local  attachments  made  sacred  by  the  most 
tender  and  cherished  recollections,  and  invigorated 
by  the  possession  of  much  valued  franchises  and  im 
munities  ;  some  of  the  provinces  enjoying  liberties 
as  great  as  now  exist,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  in 
Great  Britain,  or  in  any  country  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  ;  tribunals  of  justice  performing  their  func 
tions  with  regularity  and  impartiality  ;  a  civil  and 
political  administration  operating  with  enlightened 
economy,  accommodating  itself  to  local  immunities, 
customs  and  prejudices,  but  necessarily  imperfect, 
and  founded  on  the  erroneous  ideas  of  the  age  ;  pub 
lic  education  patronized  by  the  throne  and  in  a  state 
of  remarkable  progressiveness ;  universities  and 
schools,  recently  established,  but  already  celebrated, 
and  in  which  men,  and  even  women  of  the  most 
illustrious  birth,  lectured  with  becoming  pride  and 
distinguished  ability  ;  a  legislation,  not  uniform,  it 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  99 

is  true,  throughout  the  whole  monarchy,  but  having 
powerful  elements  of  assimilation,  as  it  derived  its 
main  principles  and  features  from  the  jurisprudence 
of  Rome,  and  the  laws  of  the  Goths  which  had  been 
gathered  into  a  code,  and  which,  translated  into  old 
Castilian,  had  been  disseminated  through  Spain, 
although  with  manifold  modifications  to  suit  the 
wants,  wishes  and  interests  of  the  former  petty 
Kingdoms  into  which  the  country  had  been  subdi 
vided.  When  looking  at  all  the  advantages  show 
ered  upon  Spain  by  a  bounteous  Providence,  it 
seems  as  if  it  would  be  impossible  to  the  imbecility 
or  wickedness  of  man  to  prevent  them  from  having 
their  natural  effects,  and  from  elevating  the  people 
dwelling  in  that  favored  region  to  the  most  enviable 
position  among  the  nations  of  the  world. 

Under  such  circumstances,  what  was  the  mission 
of  Charles  V.,  if  properly  understood  ?  It  was  to 
avail  himself  of  all  these  resources,  and  of  all  the 
elements  of  national  prosperity  which  presented 
themselves  to  his  hand.  It  was  to  harmonize  and 
to  perfect  all  the  parts  of  that  society  which  he 
found  already  created  and  established,  but  which, 
being  lately  regenerated  under  the  genial  influence 
of  virtue  and  genius,  demanded  all  the  progressive 
ameliorations  which  such  a  condition  required.  By 
all  the  means  which  an  enlightened,  humane  and  art 
ful  policy  might  have  suggested,  he  had  to  reconcile 
to  their  fate  the  Moorish  and  the  Arab  population 
of  the  Southern  and  Eastern  provinces  of  Spain, 


100  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN 

who  by  their  skill  in  agriculture  and  in  the  mechanic 
arts  constituted  an  important  portion  of  the  wealth 
of  that  country.  He  had  to  entice  them  into  adopt 
ing  the  religion,  laws,  customs  and  usages  of  the 
conquerors  by  a  well-imagined  system  of  blandish 
ments,  rewards,  and  protection.  In  this  way  a 
fusion  might  have  been  operated,  in  the  course  of 
time,  between  the  hostile  races.  To  attempt  it  would 
at  least  have  been  statesmanlike  ;  it  would  have 
been  time  enough  to  fall  back  on  the  cruel  measures 
of  compulsion,  or  even  expulsion,  if  the  work  of 
conciliation  and  fusion  had  been  found  impossible, 
and  if  the  continued  existence  of  a  heterogeneous 
element  had  been  deemed  dangerous  to  the  safety  of 
the  State.  It  should  have  been  the  aim  of  Charles 
to  have  kept  in  co-ordinate  and  healthful  action  the 
principles  of  liberty  and  of  legitimate  authority 
which  he  found  co-existent  in  the  land ;  to  have  given 
uniformity  to  the  civil  legislation  whilst  ameliorat 
ing  it  in  all  its  ramifications,  and  to  have  imparted 
a  durable  unity  to  the  former  distinct  Kingdoms  of  the 
Iberian  Peninsula,  whilst  avoiding  the  perils  of  too 
much  centralization  ;  and  in  particular  to  have  bent 
all  his  diplomacy,  or  his  military  power,  toward  re 
uniting  to  Spain  the  Kingdom  of  Portugal,  which  had 
been  torn  from  it,  and  which  was  like  a  branch 
violently  separated  from  the  trunk  of  the  majestic 
oak  on  which  nature  had  intended  it  to  grow.  It 
should  have  been  his  policy  to  stimulate  industry  in 
all  its  pursuits,  to  facilitate  the  intellectual  growth 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  101 

which  had  begun  in  the  country  ;  to  encourage  the 
arts  and  literature  ;  to  expand  the  wings  of  com 
merce  ;  to  establish  manufactures  ;  to  open  canals 
and  roads,  and  make  all  those  internal  improve 
ments  which  were  so  muoh  needed  •  to  organize  th(? 
immense  colonial  possessions  of  Spain,  give  them  the 
kind  of  government  best  adapted  to  their  wants,  put 
in  friendly  connection  the  inhabitants  of  the  two 
hemispheres,  and  civilize  by  a  paternal  administra 
tion  and  a  beneficial  commercial  intercourse  between 
the  Old  and  the  New  World,  the  numerous  popula 
tion  of  her  American  domains.  It  was  a  vast  and 
magnificent  field  for  a  man  whose  brain  arid  heart 
had  been  equal  to  the  task,  or  for  a  prince  like 
Peter  the  Great.  Charles  had  seen  what  commerce 
and  the  mechanic  arts  had  done  for  his  native  Flan 
ders.  He  ought  to  have  profited  by  that  practical 
example  of  political  economy,  and  his  ambition 
should  have  been  to  have  introduced  into  Spain 
the  blessings  of  such  a  state  of  things.  Then  she 
would  have  known  how  to  use  the  new  market  which 
Providence  had  given  her  in  America.  Agriculture, 
commerce,  the  arts,  and  industry  in  all  its  branches, 
could  not  but  have  had  a  languid  existence  in  a 
country  in  which  war  had  been  the  normal  condition 
of  society  during  eight  hundred  years,  and  when, 
every  day,  the  national  existence  of  that  country,  its 
language,  its  religion,  its  freedom,  had  been  exposed 
to  be  lost  forever.  What  did  Charles?  He  began 
with  destroying  the  public  liberties  which  he  found 


102  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

flourishing,  and  with  reducing  to  the  insignificance 
of  imbecility  the  Cortes,  who,  before  his  reign,  had 
been  full  of  life,  energy  and  action,  and  a  time-hon 
ored  part  of  the  Government.  He  established  a 
political  and  religious  despotism  in  Spain,  in  order 
to*  use  her  like  a  well-sharpened  sword  to  carve  his 
way  to  the  glittering  bauble  of  imperial  domination. 
She  was  in  his  estimation  nothing  but  a  war-horse, 
which  could  serve  no  better  purpose  than  to  enable 
him  to  ride  rough-shod  over  Kingdoms  and  Princi 
palities.  As  Neptune  is  represented  by  the  poets 
of  antiquity  stirring  in  his  fury  the  depths  of  the 
ocean  with  his  trident,  convulsing  its  waves  with 
tempestuous  winds,  and  lining  its  coasts  with  ship 
wrecks,  thus  Charles,  in  his  mad  ambition,  wield 
ed  the  sceptre  of  Spain  with  no  other  object  than  to 
strike  with  it  the  bosom  of  Europe,  from  which,  at 
his  bidding,  issued  forth  desolating  wars  and  un 
speakable  miseries  to  the  human  race.  What  did 
Spain  gain  by  it  ?  It  is  true  that  he  made  more 
refulgent  the  halo  of  glory  which  was  round  her 
head,  but  he  paralyzed  in  it  the  organ  of  thought  ; 
he  robbed  her  of  liberty, — the  soul  of  her  body  ; 
and  that  body,  bleeding  at  every  pore,  he  laid 
prostrate  like  an  exhausted  knight,  covering  with  a 
gorgeous  heap  of  laurels  the  wounds  which  he  had 
inflcted  on  its  breast  and  the  chains  which  he  had 
riveted  to  its  limbs.  So  much  for  the  reign  of 
Charles.  That  of  Philip  was  but  its  continuation, 
with  a  still  more  fatal  termination. 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  103 


CHAPTER   IV. 

ON  the  abdication  of  Charles  V.,  Philip  found 
himself  the  greatest  monarch  in  the  world,  although 
the  Imperial  Crown  had  not  descended  to  him.  He 
might,  however,  have  consoled  himself  with  the 
reflection  that  it  had  not  departed  from  his  family, 
and  had  become  the  possession  of  his  uncle  Ferdin 
and.  What  remained  to  him  seemed,  indeed, 
ample  enough  to  satisfy  the  most  craving  ambition  ;  . 
for  the  whole  Iberian  Peninsula  with  the  exception 
of  Portugal,  the  provinces  of  Roussillon  and 
Franche  Comte  in  France,  the  Kingdoms  of  Naples 
and  Sicily,  the  Balearic  Islands  and  Sardinia,  the 
Duchy  of  Milan,  the  wealthy  and  populous  Nether 
lands,  were  his  hereditary  dominions  in  Europe.  ' 
He  owned  in  Africa  the  Canary  Islands,  and  his 
authority  was  acknowledged  in  the  Cape  de  Yerd 
Islands,  in  Oran,  Bougiah  and  Tunis.  In  Asia  he 
possessed  the  Philippine  Islands,  and  a  part  of  the 
Moluccas,  or  Spice  Islands.  In  America  he  was  the 
Lord  of  the  Kingdoms  of  Mexico  and  Peru,  of  Chili 
and  other  boundless  territories,  as  well  as  of  Cuba, 
Hispaiiiola  and  other  islands  of  the  New  World.  Be 
sides,  his  marriage  with  the  Queen  of  England  had 


104  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

put  under  his  indirect  control  all  the  strength  and 
all  the  resources  of  that  Kingdom.  Well  might  it 
be  said  that  such  a  Sovereign  could  hardly  turn  to 
the  right  or  to  the  left  in  his  bed  without  exciting 
the  anxious  attention  of  mankind.  We  may  take 
this  as  literally  true,  when  we  consider  what  influ 
ence  sleep  or  digestion  may  have  on  the  resolves 
of  man,  and  a  philosophical  mind  may  well  think 
with  concern  of  the  effect  which  may  be  produced 
on  the  fate  of  millions  of  our  fellow-creatures  by  a 
more  or  less  healthy  secretion  of  bile,  in  a  being 
possessing  the  power  and  temper  which  Providence 
had  given  to  Philip. 

When  he  ascended  the  throne,  a  temporary  peace 
had  been  granted  to  Europe  by  the  truce  of  Yau- 
celles,  agreed  upon  by  the  rival  houses  of  Austria 
and  France,  represented  by  Charles  V.  and  Henry 
II.  It  is  a  singular  circumstance,  that  the  Pope 
should  have  been  the  first  Power  to  provoke  Philip 
into  breaking  the  truce,  and  to  compel  the  proclaimed 
champion  of  the  Papacy  to  wage  war  against  the 
Holy  See.  The  mad  Pontiff,  Paul  the  Fourth,  in 
vited  the  King  of  France  to  invade  the  Spanish  pos 
sessions  in  Italy,  ill  treated  the  Spaniards  in  Rome, 
and,  among  others,  Garcilasso  de  la  Vega,  the  Envoy 
of  Spain,  excommunicated  the  Colonnas  and  other 
Italian  partisans  of  Philip,  and  was  so  blinded  by 
his  hatred  for  the  house  of  Austria  as  to  perpetrate 
the  folly  of  summoning  his  Catholic  Majesty  to  ap 
pear  before  him  and  a  consistory  of  Cardinals,  to  be 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  105 

tried  aj  a  vassal  of  the  Church  for  the  Kingdom  of 
Naples,  and  to  be  deprived  of  that  crown  which  he 
was  alleged  to  have  forfeited  in  consequence  of  hav 
ing  failed  in  his  loyalty  to  the  Holy  See,  and  for 
other  reasons  specified  in  the  extraordinary  judicial 
document  by  which  the  monarch  was  arraigned. 
Charles,  from  his  retreat  at  Yuste,  encouraged  his 
son  in  adopting  the  proper  means  to  bring  the  Pope 
to  his  senses,  and  Philip,  after  consulting  a  body  of 
Spanish  theologians  who  justified  him  in  making  war 
against  the  vicar  of  Christ,  acted  with  prompt  en 
ergy.  The  Viceroy  of  Naples,  Duke  of  Alva,  was 
soon  at  the  gates  of  Rome,  after  having  taken  pos 
session  of  the  cities  and  fortresses  of  the  domains  of 
the  Church,  in  the  name,  as  he  declared,  of  the 
Sacred  College,  and  until  the  election  of  another 
Pope.  These  words  were  ominous,  and  the  Pontiff 
hastened  to  propose  terms  of  peace  which  led  to  a 
suspension  of  hostilities  for  forty  days  granted  by 
Alva,  who  knew  how  averse  the  King  was  to  a  con 
flict  with  Rome.  But,  on  receiving  assistance  from 
France,  the  Pope  perfidiously  changed  his  tone  and 
his  course,  and  became  as  hostile  as  ever.  Philip, 
who  was  then  in  Flanders,  was  not  slow  in  picking 
up  the  gauntlet  which  France  had  flung  at  his  feet. 
He  was,  at  that  time,  in  all  the  vigor  of  youth,  and 
showed  on  that  occasion  more  decision  and  activity 
than  he  ever  did  afterward.  He  seemed  desirous 
of  proving  to  Europe  that  he  was  worthy  of  the  her 
itage  of  Charles,  and  would  know  how  to  defend  it 


106  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

with  becoming  spirit.  He  sent  his  best  captains  to 
Hungary  and  Germany  to  raise  bodies  of  cavalry 
and  infantry  ;  he  called  to  arms  his  Flemish  and 
Spanish  subjects  ;  he  made  all  the  necessary  prepa 
rations  for  a  vigorous  war,  and  went  in  person  to 
England  to  prevail  upon  his  wife,  Queen  Mary,  to 
assist  him  with  the  force  of  her  Kingdom.  He  re 
turned  in  three  months  to  Brussels,  with  the  satis 
faction  of  having  succeeded  in  his  mission  and  of 
having  obtained  eight  thousand  English  auxiliaries, 
commanded  by  the  Earl  of  Pembroke.  Philip,  who 
during  his  long  life,  was  destined  to  show  as  much 
aversion  to  witnessing  a  battle  as  his  father  had 
shown  partiality  for  it,  remained  in  the  background 
under  the  pretext  of  organizing  his  forces  and  send 
ing  them  to  the  scene  of  action,  and  appointed  the 
Duke  of  Savoy  commander-in-chief  of  his  army. 
The  splendid  victory  of  St.  Quentin  was  gained,  and 
then  Philip  made  his  appearance  among  his  victo 
rious  troops.  The  Duke  of  Savoy  proposed  to  march 
rapidly  to  Paris,  which  remained  defenceless.  Philip 
refused,  and  Charles,  at  Yuste.  when  he  heard  of 
his  son's  prudence,  could  not  dissemble  his  vexation^ 
Intimidated  by  the  triumph  of  Philip  over  the  forces 
of  France,  the  Pope  again  sued  for  peace,  which  was 
granted,  as  we  have  said  before,  on  terms  which 
seemed  to  imply  that  the  victor  in  appearance  was 
the  defeated  in  reality.  The  Pope  renounced  his 
alliance  with  France,  it  is  true,  but  carried  his  point 
in  everything  else.  The  royal  dignity  was,  on  that 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  107 

occasion,  held  very  cheap  by  Philip,  much  to  the 
mortification  of  the  Duke  of  Alva,  who,  by  the  com 
mand  of  his  master,  had  to  kneel  as  a  suppliant  be 
fore  the  Pope  and  beg  his  pardon  for  having  whip 
ped  his  troops  and  treated  his  holy  person  with  ar 
rogance.  This  treaty  of  peace  was  so  derogatory  to 
the  majesty  of  the  King  of  Spain,  and  so  advantage 
ous  to  the  Pope,  who  seemed  rather  rewarded  than 
punished  for  his  perfidiousness  and  insolence,  that 
Charles  could  hardly  believe  it  at  first,  and,  when 
no  doubt  could  any  longer  be  entertained  on  the  sub 
ject,  gave  way  to  an  uncontrollable  fit  of  indignant 
rage.  This  was  not  all.  Philip  ceded  the  princi 
pality  of  Sienna,  acquired  by  his  father,  to  the  Duke 
of  Tuscany,  as  an  equivalent  for  a  certain  sum  of 
money  due  to  him,  and  in  consideration  of  a  promise 
made  by  that  Prince  to  defend  the  other  Spanish 
possessions  in  Italy  against  any  attack,  from  what 
ever  quarter  it  might  come.  On  the  part  of  one  who 
possessed  the  mines  of  Peru  and  Mexico,  with  so 
many  other  resources,  and  for  a  monarch  so  powerful 
as  Philip,  it  certainly  was  a  striking  specimen  of  un 
dignified  statesmanship  to  give  away  a  portion  of  his 
patrimony  to  pay  a  debt,  and  to  secure  the  military 
assistance  of  a  Duke  of  Tuscany !  His  forbearance 
toward  the  Pope  is  susceptible  of  an  easier  explana 
tion,  as  it  was  not  his  policy  to  weaken  a  power 
which  he  intended  to  use  as  an  engine  to  serve  his 
purposes. 

But  Philip   was   not  so   accommodating   to   the 


108  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

French.  After  a  second  victory — that  of  Gravelines 
— a  treaty  of  peace  took  place  at  Cateau  Cambresis, 
which  is  the  most  advantageous  that  Philip  made 
during  his  whole  reign.  A  French  writer  observes, 
that  the  King  of  Spain  could  not  have  dictated  in 
Paris  conditions  more  onerous  and  fatal  to  France, 
who  lost  in  one  day  what  it  had  cost  her  thirty  years 
to  acquire.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  she  gave  up  one 
hundred  and  ninety-eight  cities  and  fortresses  in  ex 
change  for  three  :  Ham,  Le  Catelet,  and  St.  Quentin. 
Besides,  by  a  secret  agreement,  it  appears  that 
Henry  II.  had  promised  to  massacre  all  the  Protest 
ants  in  his  Kingdom — "  a  consummation  most  de 
voutly  to  be  wished  "  by  Philip,  who  then  departed 
to  seat  himself  on  the  throne  which  had  been  surren 
dered  to  him  by  his  father.  Round  his  brow  were  the 
laurels  of  St.  Quentin  and  Gravelines.  It  is  true  that 
he  was  indebted  for  them  to  his  generals,  but  he 
might  claim  as  his  own  the  merits  of  the  two  treaties 
of  peace  which  he  had  made  and  which  had  been 
concluded  according  to  his  wishes  and  directions  ; 
for  he  certainly  was  able  to  lead  his  negotiators,  if 
not  his  armies.  In  his  war  with  the  Pope  he  had 
been  successful  and  magnanimous ;  in  that  with 
France,  triumphant  to  an  eminent  degree.  He  had 
humbled  her,  greatly  curtailed  her  power,  and  se 
cured  as  his  bride  the  beautiful  Isabel  ofValois. 
Europe  gave  him  credit  for  moderation  and  profound 
statesmanship.  He  had  gloriously  inaugurated  his 
reign.  The  worthy  scion  of  a  noble  line  was  pre- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  109 

suraed  capable  of  surpassing  his  imperial  sire.  His 
prestige  and  influence  at  that  time  were  perhaps 
greater  than  they  ever  were  afterward.  Much  was 
expected  of  him  at  home  and  abroad.  How  were 
these  expectations  realized?  We  have  already 
mentioned  the  extent  and  wealth  of  his  immense  do 
minions.  To  protect  or  to  increase  them  he  had  not 
only  the  untold  gold  of  his  American  possessions, 
but  he  had  also  the  best  disciplined  and  most  expe 
rienced  troops  in  the  world,  commanded  by  heroic 
and  skillful  captains.  The  combined  fleets  of  Spain 
and  Flanders  far  exceeded  the  naval  armaments  of 
any  other  power,  and  assured  to  him  the  supremacy 
of  the  seas.  Save  in  the  Low  Countries,  which  had 
retained  some  show  of  independence  and  liberty,  his 
will  was  undisputed  in  all  his  dominions,  and  no 
Cassar  had  ever  been  more  absolute.  Place  in  such 
a  position  such  a  man  as  the  glorious  rebel,  William 
the  Silent,  his  hated  subject,  and  what  would  he  not 
have  done  for  his  fame  and  the  welfare  of  the  mil 
lions  intrusted  to  his  paternal  care !  Place  on  the 
throne  which  Philip  occupied  such  a  monarch  as  his 
contemporary  Henry  IV.  of  France,  and  he  might 
have  established  that  universal  monarchy  of  which 
Philip  is  said  to  have  dreamed — such  a  universal 
monarchy  as  Heaven  might  have  smiled  upon,  for 
he  would,  no  doubt,  have  attempted  to  do  for  it  what 
he  aimed  at  on  behalf  of  France,  which  was,  in  his 
own  words,  that  "  the  poorest  of  his  subjects  should 
have  a  chicken  in  his  pot  every  Sunday." 


110  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

But  what  did  Philip  accomplish  with  all  his 
mighty  means  of  execution  ?  His  repeated  wars 
with  France  and  his  manifold  intrigues  with  the 
factions  which  desolated  that  Kingdom  were  equally 
fruitless  as  to  their  final  results.  He  plotted  and 
bribed,  and  spent  millions,  year  after  year,  to  put 
his  daughter  Isabel  on  the  throne  of  St.  Louis  to 
the  exclusion  of  the  heretic  Henry  of  Navarre,  and 
after  having  exhausted  his  diplomacy,  his  treasury 
and  the  skill  of  his  generals,  he  signally  failed  in  his 
cherished  schemes.  He  had  long  fought  and  nego 
tiated  to  have  the  Protestants  exterminated  in 
France,  and  yet  by  the  Edict  of  Nantz,  the  Protest 
ants  obtained  in  the  end  the  protection  and  security 
which  they  desired.  One  of  his  other  favorite 
plans,  if  he  could  not  make  his  daughter  Queen  of 
that  Kingdom,  was  to  weaken  or  dismember  it,  so  as 
to  secure  the  supremacy  of  Spain  over  that  neigh 
boring  rival,  and  yet  when  he  died,  France  was 
much  less  exhausted  than  Spain.  Under  the  wise 
administration  of  her  gallant  Henry,  she  was  rapidly 
passing  into  a  healthy  and  recuperative  condition, 
whilst  her  once  dreaded  and  powerful  antagonist 
was  falling  into  a  state  of  consumptive  prostration, 
from  which  she  is  but  now  recovering  after  a  lapse 
of  nearly  three  centuries.  In  his  attempts  against 
England  he  was  still  more  strikingly  foiled.  The 
sympathy  which  he  professed  for  Mary  Stuart  and 
his  endeavors  to  assist  her  contributed  to  send  to 
the  scaffold  that  unfortunate  pretender  to  the  crown 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  Ill 

of  Elizabeth.  In  his  vain  efforts  to  invade  the  fast- 
anchored  island  he  wrecked  his  whole  navy,  and 
England  soon  became  what  Spain  had  been — the 
mistress  of  the  seas,  over  which  swarmed  her  bold 
seamen  who  appropriated  to  themselves  the  treas 
ures  sent  to  Philip  from  the  New  World,  swept  over 
the  coasts  of  his  American  dominions  which  they 
repeatedly  plundered,  and  even  took  and  sacked 
Cadiz  under  the  leadership  of  the  Earl  of  Essex, 
whose  ships  returned  in  triumph  to  England  with  a 
booty  of  more  than  twenty  millions  of  ducats.  At 
the  close  of  his  career,  his  Catholic  Majesty  must,  to 
his  mortification,  have  been  conscious  that  Protest 
ant  England  was  as  much  in  the  ascendant  under 
Elizabeth  as  France  was  under  the  seemingly  con 
verted  Henry  to  the  faith  of  Rome. 

The  champion  of  Christianity  had  not  known  how 
to  avail  himself  of  the  victory  of  Lepanto,  so  as  to 
crush  forever  the  maritime  power  of  the  Infidels, 
and  toward  the  end  of  his  reign  he  had  the  humilia 
tion  of  seeing  the  shores  of  his  Italian  dominions 
devastated  by  the  piratical  incursions  of  turbaned 
corsairs.  Even  the  city  of  Reggio  was  sacked  by 
those  miscreants,  whilst  Hungary,  the  hereditary 
possession  of  his  nephew,  the  Emperor  Rodolph,  was 
still  threatened  by  the  Mahomedan  hosts.  Worse 
than  that,  he  had  not  been  able  to  retain  in  Africa 
the  important  city  of  Tunis  and  the  celebrated  fort 
ress  called  the  Goleta,  the  acquisition  of  which  had 
cost  so  much  Spanish  blood  and  treasure. 


112  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

During  a  long  portion  of  his  long  reign  he  quar 
relled  with  the  Court  of  Home,  although  he  professed 
to  care  for  the  Papacy  next  to  God.  He  had,  how 
ever,  the  satisfaction  of  dying  on  good  terms  with 
Clement  VIII.  In  relation  to  Eome  and  religious  mat 
ters,  his  great  achievement  was  the  reconvocation  of 
the  Council  of  Trent,  which  had  been  suspended  so 
often,  and  which  had  encountered  so  many  difficul 
ties  in  the  accomplishment  of  the  object  of  its  meet 
ing.  The  labors,  however,  of  the  two  hundred  and 
fifty  -  five  learned  prelates  who  composed  that 
Council  terminated  harmoniously,  much  to  the 
satisfaction  of  Philip,  and  the  articles  of  faith  for  all 
Catholics  were  at  last  clearly  and  definitely  set 
tled,  although  the  disciplinary  rules  established 
by  that  body  were  rejected  in  France  as  contrary  to 
the  privileges  and  liberties  of  the  Gallican  Church, 
and  as  hostile  to  the  rights  of  the  Crown.  This, 
if  we  consider  the  nature  of  the  subject,  the  im 
portance  and  duration  of  its  wide-spread  results, 
was  perhaps  the  greatest  success  obtained  by  Philip, 
without  whose  exertions  it  may  well  be  doubted 
whether  the  Council  of  Trent  would  not  have  been 
an  abortion,  and  whether  the  Catholic  world  would 
have  enjoyed  its  present  unity.  That  event,  fraught 
with  such  incalculable  consequences,  must  therefore 
be  justly  traced  up  to  Philip  as  its  chief  promoter. 
But,  nevertheless,  in  his  cherished  scheme  of  crush 
ing  Protestantism  he  was  far  from  being  as  success 
ful  as  he  desired.  He  had,  it  is  true,  consolidated 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  113 

and  invigorated  the  Catholic  Church,  but  he  had 
neither  weakened,  nor  circumscribed  within  a 
smaller  area,  nor  materially  damaged  its  youthful 
antagonist.  Wielding  the  terrific  engine  of  the  In 
quisition,  he  had  smothered  heresy  in  Spain,  but  it 
was  still  defiant  in  every  other  part  of  Europe 
where  it  had  taken  a  foothold,  and  when  the  Mon 
arch  closed  his  eyes  forever,  it  must  have  been  with 
the  painful  consciousness  that  the  disciples  of  Luther 
had  even  wrested  from  his  grasp  some  of  his  own 
provinces,  and  secured  forever  their  political  and 
religious  independence. 

Henry  of  Navarre  had  seated  himself  on  the 
throne  of  France  by  his  activity,  his  heroism,  and 
his  making  opportunely  the  religious  concession 
required  by  the  majority  of  his  subjects.  Philip 
lost  his  fat  provinces  of  the  Netherlands  by  his 
unbending  fanaticism,  by  his  invincible  sluggishness, 
and  by  the  near-sighted  jealousy  which  prompted 
him  to  thwart  successively  the  administration  of 
his  sister  Margaret,  and  particularly  of  Don  John 
of  Austria  and  of  Alexander  of  Parma,  who,  if 
permitted  to  act  according  to  their  own  plans,  and 
granted  the  supplies  in  men  and  money  which  they 
needed,  would,  according  to  such  probable  conjec 
tures  as  we  can  draw  from  historical  evidence, 
have  won  back,  partly  by  force,  and  partly  by 
management,  the  revolted  provinces. 

The  only  real  acquisition  made  by  Philip  was  that 
of  Portugal  and  her  immense  colonies.  Considering, 

8 


114  PHILIP    II.    OF    SPAIN. 

the  geographical  situation  of  that  Kingdom,  it  was 
of  far  more  importance  to  Spain  than  the  distant 
Low  Countries,  from  which  she  had  derived  but  few, 
if  any  advantages.  But  Philip,  by  the  arrogant 
and  injudicious  administration  which  he  gave  to  his 
conquest,  had  sowed  in  it  those  seeds  of  discontent 
which  grew  up  under  his  weak  successor  into  a  revo 
lution,  arid  again  disunited  the  Iberian  Peninsula. 
In  conclusion,  after  reviewing  Philip's  external  rela 
tions,  it  is  difficult  not  to  admit  that  they  were  less 
satisfactory  at  the  end  of  his  reign  than  at  its  begin 
ning,  and  that,  when  he  descended  into  the  tomb, 
he  was  less  powerful  as  a  monarch,  and  less  influen 
tial  as  a  statesman  in  the  Councils  of  Europe,  than 
he  had  been  when  ascending  the  throne.  It  is  prob 
ably  for  these  reasons  that  several  historians,  and 
among  others,  Yoltaire,  have  unjustly,  we  think, 
denied  him  the  talents  which  he  really  possessed, 
and  have  looked  upon  him  as  a  mere  mischief  maker, 
a  royal  busy-body,  who,  for  nearly  half  a  century, 
kept  Europe  in  a  constant  state  of  agitation,  without 
results  worthy  of  his  ambition,  and  commensurate 
with  the  extent  of  his  gigantic  power,  the  subtlety 
and  multiplicity  of  his  intrigues,  and  the  darkness 
of  his  crimes. 

Let  us  now  see  how  he  conducted  the  administra 
tion  of  his  internal  affairs,  which  he  found  in  no  flat 
tering  condition  when  he  took  in  hand  the  reins  of 
government.  Commerce  and  industry  were  para 
lyzed,  almost  dead,  the  population  was  greatly 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  115 

diminished,  the  public  debt  enormous,  the  revenues 
of  the  State  much  reduced,  and  its  financial,  if  not 
other  resources,  exhausted  by  improvident  manage 
ment.  What  did  Philip  to  remedy  these  evils  ? 
France,  which  had  been  brought  down  to  a  similar 
state  of  distress  by  its  civil  wars,  found  a  Sully, 
who,  with  the  friendly  and  enlightened  protection 
of  Henry  IV.,  substituted  order  for  chaos  and  wealth 
and  abundance  for  penury  and  famine.  Such  was  not 
the  fate  of  Spain.  The  deficit  for  the  ordinary 
expenses  of  the  Kingdom  was  197,182,000  of  mara- 
vedis  in  1557.  Philip  and  his  ministerial  advisers 
imagined,  in  their  wisdom,  to  replenish  the  empty 
and  beggarly  coffers  of  the  Government  by  selling 
one  thousand  titles  of  nobility,  without  taking  into 
consideration,  in  order  to  facilitate  the  sale,  any 
flaw  in  the  lineage  of  the  purchasers,  or  even  any 
stain  which  might  rest  on  their  escutcheons.  With 
a  view  not  to  depreciate  the  value  of  this  commodity 
by  throwing  too  much  of  it  at  once  into  the  market, 
it  was  resolved  to  part  at  first  with  only  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  titles  of  nobility,  at  the  price  of 
five  thousand  ducats  each,  reserving  the  rest  for 
successive  sales  equally  advantageous.  To  alienate 
in  perpetuity  the  rights  of  administering  justice, 
and  to  extend  in  the  same  way,  for  money,  certain 
jurisdictions,  was  another  contrivance  which  was 
thought  as  felicitous  as  the  former.  Municipal, 
notarial  and  manifold  other  offices  were  put  at 
auction,  as  it  were;  "this,  no  doubt,"  said  the 


116  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

Council,  and  the  saying  found  approbation  in  the 
royal  breast,  "will  bring  a  good  round  sum  of 
ducats."  Some  revenues  derived  from  the  Clergy 
and  which  had  not  been  paid  for  two  years  were 
remitted  in  consideration  of  a  much  smaller  amount 
furnished  without  delay.  The  commons  of  villages, 
towns  and  cities,  were  offered  for  sale,  leaving  only 
what  was  barely  indispensable.  Forced  loans  were 
resorted  to,  payable  in  annual  pensions  on  the  Roy 
al  Treasury  and  "in  vassals,"  or  sale  of  human 
beings,  and  so  evidently  forced  were  those  loans,  that 
the  Bishop  of  Cordova  being  invited  to  offer  two  hun 
dred  thousand  ducats,  the  King  said  to  one  of  his 
agents  :  "You  will  give  him  to  understand  that  if 
he  does  not  do  it  voluntarily,  we  shall  be  compelled 
to  enforce  our  request ;  and  should  he  continue 
to  excuse  himself,  let  means  of  rigor,  but  with  the 
greatest  possible  decorum  and  propriety,  be  em 
ployed  to  obtain  the  sum  required."  The  Archbishop 
of  Toledo  received  the  same  broad  hint  and  for  the 
same  amount.  The  Archbishop  of  Seville  was  put 
down  for  150,000  ducats  on  the  list  of  the  Royal 
borrower.  The  Priors  and  members  of  the  Tribunal 
of  Commerce  of  that  city  and  of  Burgos  were  taxed 
at  70,000,  and  the  Archbishop  of  Saragoza  at  60,000. 
The  towns  of  Estepa  and  Montemolin  were  sold  to 
the  Counts  of  Ureila  and  Puebla.  A  contract  made 
with  the  Pope  for  the  supply  of  certain  mineral  salts 
which  were  to  be  procured  from  the  domains  of  the 
Holy  See  was  shamefully  violated  and  was  adjudi- 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  117 

cated  to  the  highest  bidder.  The  people  were  made 
to  contribute  large  sums,  which  were  to  be  received 
in  satisfaction  of  future  taxes,  and  the  creditors  of 
the  State  had  to  content  themselves  with  promises 
to  pay  contained  in  bonds  which  stipulated  in 
creased  interest.  Other  equally  absurd  and  tyran 
nical  measures  were  adopted.  Far  from  disapproving 
them  when  presented  to  his  sanction  by  his  Council, 
Philip  ordered  that  they  should  be  executed  "  in 
stantly  and  without  any  kind  of  consideration  for 
anybody."  He  even  pithily  recommended  "  that 
more  be  taken  from  those  who  should  not  readily 
comply."  One  of  his  own  suggestions  was,  to 
appropriate  for  his  benefit  one-half  of  the  revenues 
of  the  whole  Clergy.  This  had  been  temporarily 
granted  by  the  Pope,  Julius  III.,  to  Charles  V.,  to 
enable  him  to  carry  on  war  against  the  Protestants 
of  Germany.  This  concession  had  been  since  re 
voked,  but  a  body  of  theologians  was  convoked  by 
Philip  to  examine  into  this  matter,  and  they  declar 
ed  that  the  Pope  could  not  recall  a  bull  which  had 
been  once  received  and  ratified  by  the  Kingdom  ; 
for  which  reason  they  concluded  that  the  King  had 
the  undoubted  right  to  collect  the  same  tax  from  the* 
Clergy.  Philip  accepted  this  conclusion  as  very 
logical,  and  acted  accordingly,  with  an  untroubled 
conscience.  Besides,  the  sending  of  money  to  Rome 
was  prohibited  anew  under  the  severest  penalty, 
such  as  death  and  confiscation  of  property  for  all 
those  not  in  Holy  Orders,  and  for  ecclesiastics  the 


118  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

sequestration  of  their  rents  and  temporalities,  and 
exile  from  the  Kingdom. 

To  collect  the  forced  loans  decreed  by  the  Coun 
cil,  the  King  sent  commissioners  to  the  provinces, 
with  instructions  to  proceed  with  the  utmost  severity. 
The  prelacy,  the  high  and  inferior  nobility,  and  all 
the  men  of  property,  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  The 
Archbishop  of  Saragoza  had  been  taxed  by  the 
Council  at  60,000  ducats.  He  proposed  to  compro 
mise  for  20,000.  It  turned  out  badly  for  the 
Archbishop.  "  Tell  him,"  said  Philip  to  one  of  his 
messengers,  "  that  I,  the  King,  have  put  him  down 
for  100,000  ducats."  The  other  Archbishops  attempt 
ed  to  elude  the  Royal  pressure  under  manifold  pleas 
and  excuses,  but  the  inexorable  master  ordered  that 
"  a  rigid  and  scrupulous  estimate  "  of  their  rents 
and  other  sources  of  wealth  should  be  made,  to 
establish  their  ability  to  yield  what  was  demanded, 
and  showed  them  that  he  understood  the  grind 
ing  process  as  well  as  any  miller  in  his  Kingdom. 
This  pious  and  decorum  -  loving  King,  who  pre 
tended  to  care  so  much  for  the  morals  of  the  Clergy, 
did  not  blush  to  offer  to  legitimate  the  sons  of  priests 
for  money,  and  even  to  publish  that  he  would  ennoble 
them  "  at  a  moderate  price,''  which  measure,  how 
ever,  did  not  produce  the  expected  results  ;  "  for 
the  Clergy,"  wrote  an  illustrious  Princess  to  Philip, 
"  choose  to  keep  their  money,  as  they  have  other 
ways  and  means  to  obtain  what  they  desire  for  their 
bastards."  The  Government  went  so  far  as  to  take 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  119 

at  discretion  from  merchants  and  traders  what  it 
needed,  offering  them  in  payment  very  high  inter 
ests,  and  pensions  on  the  Treasury.  Notwithstand 
ing  all  these  exactions,  its  most  pressing  wants  were 
very  far  from  being  met.  The  vast  and  ravenous 
maw  of  the  Royal  Exchequer  still  cried  for  more 
substance  to  be  devoured  ;  and  yet,  the  year  before, 
the  enormous  sum  of  more  than  fifteen  hundred  and 
forty-nine  millions  of  maravedis  had  been  received 
from  the  mines  of  the  New  World.  Not  satisfied 
with  this,  the  Government  had  at  last  run  into  the 
habit  of  seizing  all  the  gold  and  silver  coming  from 
America  for  the  account  of  individuals,  taking  for 
itself,  under  divers  pretexts,  the  lion's  share,  and 
leaving  nothing,  or  very  little,  to  the  legitimate 
owners.  It  was  worse  than  black-mail  levied  by 
His  Catholic  Majesty  ;  it  was  downright  wholesale 
robbery. 

The  Cortes  who  assembled  in  1558  remonstrated 
against  these  outrages,  and  suggested  many  measures, 
reforms  and  ameliorations  which,  if  adopted  by  the 
King,  would  have  done  much  good,  but  that  body 
was  no  longer  what  it  had  been.  The  authority  of 
the  Representatives  of  the  nation  had  been  reduced 
to  a  shadow  ;  that  of  the  King  was  but  too  stern  a 
reality.  Formerly,  when  the  Cqrtes  petitioned  for 
anything,  the  common  formula  usecl  by  the  Monarchs 
in  their  answer  was  :  "  Let  it  be  done  as  you  desire," 
or  some  other  phrase  of  acquiescence.  Under  Charles 
Y.  those  petitions  had  begun  to  be  disregarded,  and 


120  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN". 

in  the  very  first  years  of  the  reign  of  Philip  they 
hardly  ever  elicited  a  categorical  concession,  or  an 
explicitly  favorable  answer.  This  would  not  have 
suited  the  despotic,  reserved  and  mysterious  char 
acter  of  the  Monarch.  His  replies  on  such  occasions 
were  always  ambiguous  like  the  very  nature  of  his 
mind.  They  usually  ran  as  follows:  "We  shall 
order  this  matter  to  be  examined;'1  or  "  We  shall 
remember  what  you  say  in  order  to  provide  for  it 
in  the  manner  most  conducive  to  our  interest ;"  or 
"  We  shall  order  the  members  of  our  Council  to  con 
sult  together  on  what  may  be  best  to  be  done,  and 
report  to  us  accordingly.'7  This  was  the  phrase 
ology  of  his  most  benign  answers.  Generally  they 
were  unfavorable,  and  couched  in  these  terms  :  "  For 
the  present  it  is  not  proper  to  make  any  innovations 
in  this  matter." 

Charles  had  written  with  fierce  zeal  to  his  son, 
exhorting  him  to  give  no  quarter  to  the  heresy  which 
had  penetrated  into  Spain,  and  declaring  that,  not 
withstanding  his  infirmities,  he  would  leave  his  re 
treat  at  Yuste  to  crush  the  monster,  if  proper  mea 
sures  were  not  soon  taken  to  secure  its  extermina 
tion.  Philip  needed  no  such  stimulation,  and  had 
Charles  lived  a  little  longer,  he  would  have  seen  the 
heretics  treated  to  his  heart's  content.  He  would 
perhaps  have  been  amazed  at  witnessing  the  fero 
cious  impartiality  with  which  the  Inquisition  pro 
ceeded  against  so  many  personages  illustrious  for 
their  science,  their  services  to  the  State,  their  birth, 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  121 

or  their  official  position.  He  would  have  seen  arch 
bishops,  bishops,  abbots,  monks,  priests,  nuns,  mar 
quises  and  other  great  lords,  delicate  women  of  the 
most  exalted  rank,  magistrates,  professors  at  uni 
versities,  artisans,  mechanics,  servants,  and  other 
small  fry,  democratically  driven  pell-mell  to  judg 
ment  under  the  levelling  rod  of  the  same  prosecu 
tion.  The  Inquisition  must  be  given  its  due  ;  it  was 
no  respecter  of  persons.  The  highest  and  the  low 
est  had  to  bend  equally  under  its  red  hot  sceptre, 
and  lucky  was  he  who  had  only  his  beard  singed. 
The  Archbishops  of  Granada  and  Santiago,  the 
Bishops  of  Lugo,  of  Leon,  of  Almeria,  with  far-famed 
theologians  who  were  the  boast  of  Spain  and  the 
pride  of  the  Catholic  Church,  and  who  had  figured 
conspicuously  as  members  of  the  Council  of  Trent, 
were  arraigned  at  the  bar  of  a  tribunal  as  grim  as 
Tartarus,  and  with  all  its  flames  and  apparatus  of 
torments  at  its  command,  The  very  Primate  of  the 
Church  of  Spain,  the  Archbishop  of  Toledo,  who  had 
been  the  confessor  of  Philip,  and  who  had  admin 
istered  the  last  consolations  of  religion  to, the  Em-  f 
peror  on  his  death-bed  at  Yuste,  was  accused  of. 
heresy,  and  dragged  before  judges  far  more  terrible 
than  any  mythological  Minos,  Eacus  and  Rhada- 
manthe.  His  crime  was  to  have  written  certain 
commentaries  on  "the  Church's  Catechism  of  the 
Christian  Doctrine,"  Many  prelates  and  theolo 
gians  had  given  their  approbation  to  these  comment- k 
aries.  Hence  they  were  also  enveloped  in  the  same 


122  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

prosecution.  Who  could  feel  safe,  when  such  men 
were  not  ?  Hardly  had  Philip  returned  from  Flan 
ders,  to  begin  his  royal  administration  in  1549v^whGn 
autos-de-fe  were  inaugurated,  to  greet  him  with  spe 
cial  honor  ;  and  the  burning  piles  to  consume  her 
etics,  or  pretended  heretics,  threw  their  lurid  light 
all  over  Spain.  On  one  occasion,  the  bones  of  an_old 
woman  were  disinterred,  and  those  bones,logether 
with  a  statue  made  to  represent  her,  were  reduced 
to  ashes  in  the  presence  of  Philip,  with,  alas !  many 
other  victims  whose  living  flesh  was  not,  like  that 
vain  image,  proof  against  the  agonies  of  the  inflicted 
torture.  These  exhibitions  were  known  to  afford 
keen  satisfaction  to  Philip,  and  one  may  suppose, 
without  any  great  stretch  of  fancy,  that  when  the 
flames  crackled  round  the  bodies  of  his  subjects,  the 
phlegmatic  Monarch  extended  with  glee  his  cold 
blooded  hands  to  meet  the  genial  heat  which  they 
diffused.  Those  autos-de-fe,  or  acts  of  faith,  as  they 
were  called,  were  to  continue  to  be  one  of  the  char 
acteristic  features  of  his  reign,  and  were  not  t]ie 
least  of  the  potent  causes  of  the  decline  of  Spain. 
The  genius  of  evil  was  seated  on  her  throne  in  the 
person  of  Philip,  and  the  curse  of  God  had  settled 
on  her  majestic  mountains  and  her  lovely  valleys. 

In  the  beginning  of  his  reign  he  issued  a.  most 
extraordinary  decree,  strikingly  in  keeping  with  the 
spirit  which  animated  the  Inquisition  and  its  sup 
porters.  That  document  is  a  signal  revelation  of  the 
policy  which  Philip  adopted  as  the  very  soul  of  his 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  123 

Government.  Determined  to  stop,  by  all  imaginable 
means  the  infiltration  into  Spain  of  the  doctrines  of 
the  religious  reformation  which  agitated  Europe,  it 
seems  that  he  planned  to  isolate  her  intellect  from 
that  of  the  rest  of  the  world.  On  the  other  side  of 
the  Pyrenees  the  human  mind  was  in  motion,  and 
ran  onward,  as  it  ever  will,  like  a  magnificent  stream, 
sometimes  kshed  into  fury  by  tempestuous  winds 
and  sinking  the  precious  freight  floating  on  its  bosom, 
sometimes  reflecting  gently  the  hues  of  Heaven,  the 
radiancy  of  the  sun,  and  gracefully  swelling  under 
the  keel  of  the  thrifty  bark  of  commerce,  or  the 
gilded  boat  of  pleasure,  now  overleaping  its  banks 
with  swollen  and  angry  waves  and  carrying  desola 
tion  far  and  wide  ;  now  spreading  fertility,  abun 
dance  and  joy,  but  always  keeping  its  steady  course 
toward  its  goal,  and  always,  notwithstanding  its 
rapids,  its  shoals,  its  eddies  and  the  other  dangers 
of  its  navigation,  continuing  to  be  a  priceless  chan 
nel  of  intercourse  between  nations  and  an  instru 
ment  of  civilization.  This  was  no  grateful  spectacle 
to  Philip.  The  brain  of  Spain,  at  least,  was  in  his 
iron  grasp,  and  should  work  only  in  harmony  with 
his  own.  He  would  not  permit  her  intellect  to  be 
like  an  ocean  heaving  under  vivifying  gales  and  roll 
ing  its  vast  volume  of  water  to  distant  shores  in  a 
sublime  continuity  of  measureless  expansion.  It  was 
to  be  like  the  Dead  Sea,  contracted,  dreary,  motion 
less,  lifeless,  useless.  For  this  purpose  he  ordered 
that  none  of  his  subjects,  without  any  exception 


124  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

whatever,  should  leave  the  Kingdom  "  to  learn,  or 
to  teach,  or  to  read  anything,"  or  even  "  reside  "  in 
any  of  the  universities,  colleges  or  schools  estab 
lished  in  foreign  parts.  To  those  who  were  thus 
engaged  he  prescribed  that  they  should  return  home 
within  four  months.  Any  ecclesiastic  violating  this 
decree  was  to  be  denationalized  and  lose  all  his  tem 
poralities  ;  any  layman  was  to  be  punished  with  the 
confiscation  of  his  property  and  perpetual  exile. 
Thus  a  sort  of  Chinese  legislation  and  policy  was 
adopted  for  Spain.  There  was  to  be  on  her  frontiers 
a  line  of  custom-houses  through  which  the  thought  of 
man  could  not  pass  without  examination.  No  Span 
iard  was  to  receive  or  to  communicate  one  idea 
without  the  leave  of  Philip.  Truly  this  was  despot 
ism  carried  to  the  height  of  sublimity.  That  man 
must  have  snuffed  on  the  breeze  the  parturition  of 
future  revolutions,  and  would  have  stopped,  if  pos 
sible,  the  circulation  of  air  across  mountains  and 
seas  to  the  doomed  theatre  of  his  tyranny.  Spain 
was  to  be  fossilized,  to  be  mummified  in  the  swad 
dling-bands  of  unprogressive  ignorance,  in  order 
that  Philip  might  slumber  in  peace  under  the  sombre 
vaults  of  the  Escorial.  With  such  facts  staring  us 
in  the  face,  we  cannot  but  wonder  that  some  Span 
ish  historians  have  claimed  for  this  bird  of  darkness, 
this  extinguisher  of  the  intellect,  the  merit  of  having 
been  the  lover  and  patron  of  literature  and  the  ar-ts, 
after  the  fashion  of  Francis  the  First  of  France. 
In  1560,  the  Cortes  of  Castile  had  their  second 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  125 

meeting  under  the  reign  of  Philip.  Don  Carlos  was 
acknowledged  as  legitimate  heir  to  the  throne  with 
great  solemnity,  on  his  swearing  to  observe  and 
maintain  the  privileges  and  laws  of  the  kingdom. 
The  Cortes  presented  to  Philip  one  hundred  and 
eleven  petitions,  some  of  which  deserve  to  be  men 
tioned,  as  specimens  of  the  political  economy  and  of 
the  statesmanship  prevalent  at  the  epoch.  These 
were,  that  the  Sovereign  should  visit  the  principal 
cities  of  his  Kingdom,  in  order  that  he  might  know 
personally  those  whose  services  he  might  re 
quire  ;  that  there  be  a  sumptuary  reform  in  dresses, 
equipages  and  the  general  way  of  living,  his  Majesty 
being  the  first  to  give  the  example  ;  that  the  sale  of 
the  domains  of  the  Crown  be  suspended  ;  that  the 
work  of  making  a  digest  of  the  law  be  continued 
without  interruption  ;  that  the  King  cease  to  pay 
such  high  interests  on  his  debts  ;  that  he  persist  not 
in  taking  for  himself  the  gold  and  silver  coming  from 
America  for  individuals  ;  that  these  precious  metals 
be  not  permitted  to  be  carried  out  of  Spain  ;  that  no 
butcher's  meat  and  no  grains  be  exported  from  Cas 
tile  to  the  kingdoms  of  Portugal,  Aragon  and  Valen 
cia  ;  that  nothing  be  plated  with  gold  or  silver,  except 
such  articles  as  were  required  for  the  use  of  Churches  ; 
that  the  custom-houses  between  Castile  and  Portugal 
be  suppressed  ;  that  the  delinquencies  committed  by 
the  soldiers  against  the  peasantry  be  cognizable  by 
the  ordinary  tribunals  of  the  country,  and  that  the 
accused  in  such  cases  be  not  allowed  to  shelter  them- 


126  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

selves  behind  their  military  franchises  or  privileges  ; 
that  no  officer  of  the  Government  be  permitted  to 
trade  ;  that  the  Moors  of  Granada  be  prohibited  from 
purchasing  black  slaves  ;  that  vagrants  be  prosecuted ; 
that  thieves  be  branded  on  the  arm  ;  that  the  Gran 
dees  be  compelled  to  reduce  the  number  of  their 
lacqueys,  because  the  attraction  of  the  livery  depriv 
ed  agriculture  of  too  many  of  those  laborers  which 
it  needed  ;  and  that  it  be  not  lawful  for  anybody, 
whatever  be  his  rank,  to  have  on  his  table  more  than 
four  dishes  and  four  different  kinds  of  fruit ;  that  the 
cities  on  the  sea  shore  be  fortified,  and  proper  means 
be  taken  to  check  the  depredations  of  the  Moslem 
corsairs  who  made  the  navigation  of  the  Mediterra 
nean  so  insecure,  and  who,  by  their  incessant  land 
ings  on  the  coasts  of  Spain,  had  caused  the  lands, 
from  Perpignan  in    Roussillon  to   the  frontiers  of 
Portugal,  to  be  abandoned  and  to  remain  unculti 
vated  as  far  as  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  in  the  interior. 
Philip  paid  but  very  little  attention  to  most  of  these 
requests,  except  the  last,  which  induced  him  to  make 
an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  possess  himself  of  Tripoli, 
Oran,  Mazelquevir,  and  some  other  points  on    the 
African  coast.     To  those  petitions  which  aimed  at 
something  practicable  and  judicious  he  gave  some  of 
his  usual  evasive  answers,  but  he  granted  very  read 
ily  those  which  were  absurd.     For  instance,  he  pro 
mulgated  sumptuary  ordinances  which  were  ridicu*- 
lous,  and  which  could  not  possibly  have  any  salutary 
effects.      He   also   published    decrees   which   wore 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  127 

restrictive  of  commerce,  and  prohibited  the  export 
ation  of  gold,  silver,  grains,  cattle  and  other  products 
of  the  soil,  or  of  the  manufacturing  industry  of  the 
countr}r.  Three  years  after,  in  1563,  the  Cortes  of 
Castile  having  remonstrated  against  the  practice  of 
alienating  real  estate  in  mortmain  to  the  Clergy,  and 
represented  that  religious  corporations,  if  not  checked, 
would  in  the  end  possess  themselves  of  the  whole  of 
Spain,  the  King  replied,  in  his  favorite  phraseology, 
that  "  it  did  not  seem  expedient  to  him  to  make  any 
innovation  in  this  matter  ; "  and  the  Cortes  of  Ara- 
gon  having  complained  of  the  encroachments  of  the 
Tribunal  of  the  Inquisition,  which  was  gradually 
usurping  jurisdiction  to  the  detriment  of  the  ordinary 
courts  of  the  country,  the  King  vouchsafed  no  other 
answer  than  that  "he  would  talk  about  it  to  the 
Grand  Inquisitor  General.'' 

In  the  mean  time,  the  financial  condition  of  the 
Kingdom  was  rapidly  growing  worse,  and  the  deficit 
resulting  from  the  inequality  of  expenditure  and 
revenue  was  assuming  the  most  alarming  proportions. 
All  the  ordinary  and  extraordinary  means  and  re 
sources  had  been  exhausted.  Philip,  instead  of 
remedying  the  evil  by  a  prudent  and  wise  economy, 
gave  the  example  of  extravagance  in  the  royal 
household.  The  sum  annually  granted  to  the  Queen 
had  in  two  years  been  raised  from  60,000  to  80,000 
ducats,  and  the  allowance  to  Don  Carlos  and  to  Don 
John  of  Austria,  from  32,000  to  50,000  each,  so  that 
the  expenses  of  the  Royal  family  amounted,  in  1562, 


128  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

to  415,000  ducats  a  year,  a  sum  equal  to  about 
$2,000,000  in  our  days,  whilst  some  of  the  highest 
officers  of  the  realm  had  to  content  themselves  with 
the  comparatively  pitiful  salary  of  400  ducats.  With 
such  aberrations  in  political  economy  and  such  a 
wasteful  administration,  it  is  not  astonishing  that  the 
personal  debts  of  the  Monarch  and  those  of  the 
Kingdom  should  have  been  frightfully  on  the  in 
crease  ;  and  yet,  on  an  average,  Philip  received 
annually  from  his  American  Dominions  alone  more 
than  one  million  two  hundred  thousand  ducats — 
which  was  at  least  equivalent  to  six  millions  of  dol 
lars  at  the  present  epoch.  The  Council  of  Finances, 
or  Hacienda,  after  consulting  with  Philip,  could  not 
devise  anything  else,  to  get  out  of  difficulty,  than  to 
resort  again  to  the  sale  of  titles  of  nobility,  the  sale 
of  vassals  and  other  Royal  property,  the  alienation 
of  certain  rights,  and  the  concession  of  privileges. 
This  was  but  a  sad  way  to  stop  the  holes  in  a  sinking 
ship,  and  fatal  as  were  the  measures  to  relieve  the 
pressing  necessities  of  the  moment,  they  were  ren 
dered  still  more  so  by  the  manner  in  which  they 
were  carried  into  execution  ;  for  the  King  was  in 
formed  by  one  of  his  ministerial  advisers,  that  in 
order  to  realize  500,000  ducats,  it  would  be  im 
perative  to  alienate  property  worth  fully  700,000, 
on  account  of  necessary  deductions  which  would  have 
to  be  made,  and  which  he  enumerated.  It  is  difficult 
to  give  an  idea  of  the  wretched  administration  which 
had  been  introduced  in  Spain,  and  of  those  abuses 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  129 

which,  like  venomous  leeches,  preyed  upon  her  vitals. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  in  Castile,  for  instance,  accord 
ing  to  a  census  made  in  1541,  there  was  a  population 
of  near  800,000  souls,  and  that  out  of  every  eight 
men  there  was  one  who  was  noble  and  exempt  from 
taxation,  thereby  increasing  the  weight  of  the  burden 
on  the  shoulders  of  the  rest ;  and  as  if  this  evil  was 
not  already  unbearable,  Philip  was  selling  profusely 
letters  patent  of  nobility.  One  is  tempted  to  sup 
pose  that  the  wreckless  Eoyal  spendthrift  cared  very 
little  what  became  of  Spain  after  he  had  closed  his 
mad  career  of  visionary  ambition  and  selfish  grati 
fication. 

In  these  conjunctures,  Philip,  who  had  shown,  on 
all  occasions,  that  he  preferred  residing  in  Madrid 
than  anywhere  else  in  Spain,  determined  to  make 
that  city  the  permanent  seat  of  the  Court  and  of  the 
Supreme  Government,  and  therefore  the  capital  of 
the  Monarchy.  That  barren  and  insalubrious  locality 
presented  but  one  advantage,  if  it  be  one  of  much 
value,  that  of  being  a  central  point.  Its  disadvan 
tages  were  manifold  and  glaring,  and  are  felt  to  this 
day.  Such  a  selection  redounds  very  little  to  the 
credit  of  Philip.  It  has  been  severely  censured  by 
his  own  countrymen,  and  justifies  inferences  un 
favorable  to  the  reputation  of  that  Monarch  for 
judgment,  discretion  and  foresight.  Reason  and 
common  sense  condemned  it  from  the  beginning,  and 
their  verdict  has  been  confirmed  by  time  and  ex 
perience. 

9 


130  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

Shortly  after  having  selected  Madrid  as  his  capi 
tal.  Philip  had  laid  with  his  own  hands,  in  the 
vicinity  of  that  city,  the  first  stone  of  the  foundations 
of  the  Escorial,  that  eighth  marvel  of  the  world,  as  it 
is  called  by  the  Spaniards,  and  it  was  when  superin 
tending  the  erection  of  that  edifice,  which  he  intend 
ed  as  an  eternal  monument  of  his  piely,  that  he 
attempted  to  introduce  the  Inquisition  in  his  prov 
inces  of  the  Low  Countries,  and  inaugurated  that 
system  of  tyrannical  vexations  by  which  he  goaded 
faithful  subjects  into  insurrection.  It  was  when 
thus  engaged  that  he  found  leisure  to  negotiate  with 
France  the  cession  and  translation  to  Spain  of  the 
bones  of  the  martyr  St.  Eugene,  who  had  been  the 
first  Archbishop  of  Toledo,  and  whose  body  had,  for 
centuries,  reposed  in  the  famous  abbey  of  St.  Denis, 
near  Paris.  The  King  of  France  readily  granted 
the  favor  desired  by  Philip,  but  the  Cardinal  of 
Lorraine,  who  was  Abbot  of  St.  Denis,  stoutly 
refused  to  part  with  the  canonized  treasure.  This 
difficulty  almost  produced  a  collision  between  the 
two  Kingdoms.  Fortunately  the  G-ordian  knot  was 
cut  by  having  the  dead  saint  secretly  taken  out  of 
his  place  of  rest,  and  conveyed  to  Bordeaux,  after 
having  obtained  from  Philip  the  solemn  assurance 
that  he  would,  in  return,  compensate  the  Cathedral 
of  St.  Denis  for  its  loss  by  a  donation  of  a  similar 
nature  and  value.  The  body  of  the  saint  was  re 
ceived  in  Toledo  with  the  most  gorgeous  ceremony. 
The  whole  Court  was  present  ;  Philip  and  Austrian 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  131 

Archdukes  who  happened  to  be  on  a  visit  to  Spain, 
assisted  by  the  highest  Grandees  of  the  land,  carried 
the  body  on  their  shoulders  to  the  doors  of  the 
Cathedral  of  Toledo,  where  it  was  received  by  the 
Clergy  and  deposited  in  the  most  sacred  part  of  the 
edifice.  A  Monarch  who  had  thus  bent  reverently 
under  the  weight  of  the  coffin  which  contained  the 
remains  of  a  saint  could  not  but  feel,  or  pretend  to 
feel,  great  concern  at  the  dissoluteness  which  had 
penetrated  into  many  religious  Orders,  and  profaned 
the  sacred  walls  of  Convents  and  other  such  holy 
asylums.  He  accordingly  published  decrees  remedy 
ing  the  evil,  and  put  an  end  to  the  liberty  which  female 
recluses  had  taken  to  come  out  of  their  monastic 
abodes  at  will — which  liberty  had  been  fraught  with 
peril  to  their  virtue,  and  had  been  the  cause  of 
much  scandal.  He  proposed  to  the  Pope  several 
measures,  the  object  of  which  was  to  restore  the 
antique  purity  of  the  cloister,  and  he  took  care  as 
usual,  that  His  Holiness  should  not  long  resist  his 
views.  He  particularly  insisted  on  the  abolition  of 
the  Order  of  the  Piemonstratenses,  or  Norbertines. 
u  They  are  all  idiots,"  he  said,  "  without  literary  or 
doctrinal  education.  There  is  no  preacher  among 
them,  and  in  several  of  their  houses  there  is  not 
even  a  pulpit.  Besides  their  being  idiots,  they 
have  very  loose  morals,  whereby  they  give  a  bad 
example  ;  for  they  neither  keep  themselves  confined 
to  their  monasteries,  nor  observe  any  of  the  regula 
tions  of  their  Order.1'  In  this  matter,  Philip  had 


132  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

very  readily  listened  to  the  representations  of  the 
Cortes,  who,  having  assembled  at  Madrid,  in  1567, 
had  petitioned  against  the  abuses  and  scandal  which 
resulted  from  the  visits  of  monks  to  the  con 
vents  of  nuns,  proposing  that  they  should  not  be 
permitted  to  enter  such  establishments,  but  instruct 
ed  on  the  contrary  never  to  hold  any  conversations 
with  such  female  recluses,  except  at  the  hole  of  the 
turning-box,  or  at  the  iron  gratings  of  the  common 
parlor.  The  Monarch  did  not,  however,  lend  to 
them  so  favorable  an  ear,  when  they  repeated  the 
prayer  of  former  Cortes,  that  Monasteries,  Churches, 
and  ecclesiastics  individually,  be  prohibited  from 
purchasing  real  estates,  and  be  declared  incapable 
of  acquiring  them  either  through  inheritance,  or 
donation.  The  same  answer  was  returned  as  on 
preceding  occasions  :  "It  is  not  expedient  to  make 
any  innovation."  Hardty  any  other  answer  could 
have  been  expected  from  a  Prince,  who  had  just 
entailed  on  the  monastery  of  the  Escorial  which  he 
was  then  constructing  enormous  rents  and  other 
dotations. 

The  Pope  Pius  Y.,  seeing  Philip  in  such  good 
disposition,  requested  him,  in  return  for  favors 
granted,  no  longer  to  forbid  the  publication  of  the 
Bulls  of  the  Holy  See,  unless  they  had  the  Eoyal 
Exequatur.  But  the  King  showed  himself  very 
stubborn  on  this  subject,  and  replied  that  he  desired 
to  live  in  the  utmost  harmony  with  the  Holy  Roman 
Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church,  provided  he  was  not 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  133 

expected  to  sacrifice  any  of  the  authority  which  he 
had  inherited  from  the  most  pious  of  Princes.  He 
expressed  his  astonishment  that  the  Pope  should 
find  fault  with  him  for  using  his  royal  privileges, 
when  His  Holiness  knew  that  the  same  course  had 
been  pursued  by  his  ancestors,  who  had  conferred 
so  many  benefits  on  the  Church,  by  which  their 
great  services  to  religion  had  always  been  acknowl 
edged.  The  Pope  prudently  yielded,  but  not  with 
out  bitter  complaints.  It  was,  however,  a  compen 
sation  for  the  Court  of  Rome,  that  Philip  was  bent 
upon  establishing  the  Inquisition  in  the  Low 
Countries.  Already  those  Provinces  were  in  a  state 
of  insurrection,  and  the  heads  of  Egmont  and  Horn 
had  fallen  on  the  scaffold.  In  connection  with  this 
tragical  event,  we  will  mention  as  strikingly  charac 
teristic  of  Philip  what  he  wrote  to  the  Duke  of 
Alva,  the  ruthless  Minister  of  his  bloody  policy  : 
''It  has  grieved  me  exceedingly  that  the  delinquen 
cies  of  the  Counts  have  been  so  grave  as  to  deserve 
the  sentence  which  was  executed  on  their  persons. 
But  since  that  sentence  was  so  just  and  so  well 
grounded,  we  have  nothing  more  to  say  than  to 
recommend  their  souls  to  God."  This  letter  never 
was  intended  for  publicity,  and  has  bat  recently 
come  to  light.  Was  Philip  playing  the  hypocrite, 
even  when  confidentially  addressing  such  a  man  as 
Alva? 

These  same  Cortes  of  1567,  to  whose  proceedings 
we  have  already  referred,  had  petitioned  the  King 


134  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

to  put  an  end  to  bull  fights,  on  account  of  the  se 
rious  accidents  which  resulted  from  this  favorite, 
popular  pastime,  and  to  replace  it  by  useful  military 
and  knightly  exercises  which  would  instruct  the 
people  in  the  art  of  war,  and  the  better  qualify 
them  to  serve  His  Majesty.  The  King  replied  that, 
as  to  the  accidents  mentioned,  it  was  the  business 
of  those  who  presided  at  those  festivals  to  prevent 
them,  and  he  had  no  doubt  they  did  their  duty  in 
that  respect,  as  well  and  as  efficaciously  as  could 
be  expected  ;  and  as  to  the  nature  of  the  amusement 
itself,  that  it  was  a  very  antique  and  general  custom 
which  could  not  be  changed,  unless  after  much 
deliberation  ;  and  therefore,  for  the  present,  that  he 
"  did  not  see  any  reason  for  innovation."  Although 
such  a  hater  of  innovations,  Philip  was  very  fond  of 
such  as  suited  his  purposes.  For  instance,  not 
satisfied  with  having  provoked  an  insurrection 
among  his  Flemish  subjects  by  having  infringed 
some  of  their  cherished  laws,  privileges,  customs  and 
usages,  he  was  driving  into  rebellion  the  conquered 
Moors  of  the  Kingdom  of  Granada  by  the  same  course 
of  absurd  and  tyrannical  legislation — a  legislation 
which  aimed  at  suddenly  changing  the  nature  of  those 
miserable  beings,  and  transforming  them  at  once 
into  full-blooded  Spaniards.  He  seems  to  have 
exhausted  his  imagination  to  make  life  intolerable 
to  that  unfortunate  race.  It  was  not  enough  that 
they  should  have  been  compelled  to  abjure  their 
relligon  ;  it  was  not  enough  that  they  had  undergone 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  135 

every  sort  of  oppression  ;  they  were  at  last  forbid 
den  to  use  their  own  native  language,  and  ordered 
to  speak  Spanish  only,  whether  they  knew  it  or  not, 
under  the  most  terrible  penalties.  They  were  also 
commanded  to  deliver  up  all  the  Arabic  books 
which  they  might  have  in  their  possession.  More 
over,  they  had  to  renounce  their  usages,  ceremonies, 
customs,  dresses,  and  even  their  family  names. 
Their  ablutions  for  the  sake  of  religion  or  cleanli 
ness  were  to  be  abandoned  ;  their  ordinary  as  well 
as  medicinal  baths  were  to  be  destroyed.  They 
were  instructed  to  keep  their  houses  opened,  and 
their  women  were  to  show  themselves  unveiled  in 
the  streets.  In  one  word,  they  were  to  lose  the 
very  consciousness  of  their  former  identity  ;  they 
were,  in  every  act  of  their  life  from  the  most 
important  to  the  most  trifling,  to  relinquish  what 
they  cherished,  and  to  adopt  what  they  abhorred. 
It  would  have  been  no  wonder  that  such  a  decree 
had  maddened  men  of  less  fiery  temper  than  the 
Moors.  On  its  promulgation,  they  flew  to  such 
weapons  as  they  had  kept  concealed,  for  they  had 
previously  been  disarmed  as  completely  as  possible, 
and,  in  their  uncontrollable  fury,  they  committed  the 
wildest  atrocities.  This  was  a  pretext  for  retalia 
tion  and  plunder,  and  a  war  of  extermination  began 
against  those  who  had  been  driven  into  those 
excesses  by  the  very  Government  which  had  assum 
ed  their  punishment. 

Whilst  the  increasing  troubles  and  perturbations 


136  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

in  Flanders  and  the  new  horrors  of  a  fanatical  war 
in  the  Kingdom  of  Granada  were  filling  Spain  with 
mourning  and  with  anxiety  for  the  future,  the  arrest 
and  secret  trial  of  the  hereditary  Prince,  Don  Carlos, 
for  causes  which  have  remained  unknown  to  this 
day,  and  his  subsequent  mysterious  death,  threw  a 
funereal  pall  over  the  face  of  the  whole  country- 
But,  when  a  few  months  after,  it  became  known  that 
the  beautiful  and  beloved  Queen,  Isabel  of  Valois> 
had,  at  the  age  of  twenty-two,  departed  this  life,  not 
without  suspicions  of  foul  play  at  the  time,  although 
historians  admit  that  they  were  unfounded,  the 
loyalty  of  the  Spaniards,  proof  as  it  was  against  all 
assaults,  melted  into  tears, and  shuddered  with  ter 
ror.  The  marriage  of  Philip  with  Anne  of  Austria, 
who  had  also  been  destined  to  his  son,  Don  Carlos, 
although  celebrated  with  much  pomp,  did  not  afford 
much  consolation  to  the  heavily  taxed  and  much  af 
flicted  subjects  of  the  despot.  The  festivals  which 
took  place  on  that  occasion  contributed  to  empty  the 
Eoyal  purse,  and,  when  after  having  captured  Har 
lem,  the  Spanish  soldiers  mutinied  for  the  want  of 
pay,  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that,  to  satisfy 
in  part  their  just  demands,  the  Sovereign  of  so  many 
Kingdoms  and  Provinces  could  raise  400,000  ducats, 
on  agreeing  to  exorbitantly  usurious  interest.  And 
yet  he  had  just  put  to  death  Montigny  and  confis 
cated  his  estates,  together  with  those  of  many  other 
Magnates  of  the  Netherlands,  and  he  had  taxed  and 
plundered  those  rich  Provinces  with  the  utmost  in- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  137 

genuity  and  without  mercy.  But  the  more  he  robbed 
and  oppressed,  the  poorer  he  became.  His  exactions 
were  fruitless  ;  they  could  not  replenish  his  exche 
quer.  It  was  like  pouring  water  into  a  bottomless 
tub. 

Philip,  in  his  proceedings  against  the  Moors  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Granada,  had  probably  two  objects  in 
view — the  one,  was  to  establish  in  it  religious  unity, 
as  well  as  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  the  other,  to 
fill  up  his  Royal  coffers  by  wholesale  confiscation  and 
all  the  other  arts  of  spoliation.  He  consulted  learned 
prelates  and  laymen  to  know  whether  the  prisoners 
in  that  war  could  be  reduced  to  slavery.  The  ma 
jority  of  his  advisers  decided  in  the  affirmative  •  ex 
cepting  only  from  servitude  boys  under  ten  years 
and  girls  under  eleven,  who  were  to  be  intrusted  to 
certain  administrations  by  which  they  were  to  be 
educated  in  the  Christian  faith.  Therefore,  such  of 
the  captives  as  were  not  permitted  to  become  the 
share  of  the  soldiers  were  sold  for  the  benefit  of  his 
Catholic  Majesty,  and  the  fifth  of  all  the  spoils  that 
were  taken  from  the  sacked  dwellings  of  the  Moors 
was  also  reserved  for  the  Monarch  ;  and  that  those 
spoils  were  not  trifling  we  may  easily  conceive,  when 
we  reflect  that  many  of  the  Moors  were  rich,  and 
when  a  contemporary  Spanish  historian  declares, 
that  most  of  the  soldiery  engaged  in  hunting  the 
rebels  from  their  cities,  and  even  from  the  caves  and 
mountain  recesses  where  they  had  sought  refuge, 
"  had  avarice  for  their  leader  and  robbery  for  their 


138  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

paymaster."  Philip  had  ordered,  on  the  19th  of 
October,  1569,  that  the  war  be  carried  on  "with  fire 
and  sword,"  and  was  but  too  well  obeyed.  Among 
other  deeds  of  atrocity,  a  whole  city  was  sacked  and 
burned,  its  inhabitants  put  to  death,  and  the  ground 
on  which  it  stood  strewed  with  salt  which  was 
ploughed  into  the  soil.  Finally,  it  was  determined 
that  men,  who  through  a  policy  truly  diabolical  had 
been  driven  into  rebellion,  had  no  rights  whatever  ; 
that  all  their  possessions  belonged  to  the  Crown  ;  and 
that  the  whole  Moorish  population  of  the  Kingdom 
of  Granada  should  be  transported  and  scattered  in 
the  interior  of  Spain.  They  were  to  be  divided  into 
small  bands  and  mixed  up  with  the  Spaniards,  so  as 
to  avoid  the  danger  which  might  result  from  their 
agglomeration  on  any  particular  point.  No  excep 
tion  was  made  in  favor  of  a  numerous  class  of  them 
who  had  remained  faithful.  They  were  told  with  all 
the  gravity  of  sincerity  and  in  the  soft  tones  of  sym 
pathy,  which  must,  however,  have  sounded  to  them 
like  cruel  mockery,  that  it  was  "  for  their  good  and 
security"  they  were  to  be  removed  from  the  place  of 
their  birth,  from  their  paternal  roofs  and  all  their 
broad  acres  of  land.  "  The  Moors,"  said  Philip  in 
the  preamble  of  an  ordinance  dated  on  the  24th  Feb 
ruary,  1571,  "  who  took  no  part  in  the  insurrection 
ought  not  to  be  punished.  We  should  not  desire  to 
injure  them."  On  reading  these  words  we  began  to 
breathe  more  freely  and  to  hope  that,  at  last,  a  sense 
of  justice  had  overcome  in  the  breast  of  the  Monarch 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  139 

the  malignant  influence  of  fanaticism  and  the  inspi 
rations  of  a  greedy  policy.  We  had,  unfortunately, 
been  too  hasty,  and  we  confessed  to  ourself  that  we 
did  not  yet  know  Philip  thoroughly,  much  as  we  had 
studied  his  character,  when,  before  finishing  the  sen 
tence,  we  met  with  a  "but,"  truly  worthy  of  his 
genius.  "  We  should  not  desire  to  injure  them," 
wrote  the  Prince,  "but  they  cannot  hereafter  cul 
tivate  their  lands  ;  and,  besides,  it  would  be  an  end 
less  task  to  attempt  to  separate  the  innocent  from 
the  guilty.  We  shall  indemnify  them,  certainly. 
Meanwhile,  their  estates  must  be  confiscated  like  those 
of  the  rebel  Moriscoes.'1  It  has  been  said  that  his- 
Philip,  however,  pretended  to  show  some  consider 
ation  for  the  loyal  Moors.  Their  lands  and  houses 
were  to  be  forfeited  to  the  Crown,  it  is  true.  TJiat 
he  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  relinquish.  But 
their  personal  effects,  their  flocks,  their  herds  and 
their  grains  would  be  taken,  if  they  desired  it,  at  a 
fixed  valuation  by  the  Government.  What  that 
valuation  was  we  have  no  means  of  ascertaining,  but 
we  suspect  that  in  that  arrangement  the  unfortunate 
Moors  found  themselves  unmercifully  fleeced  by  their 
Royal  shepherd.  That  Royal  shepherd,  however, 
if  he  sheared  all  the  wool  from  his  sheep,  ordered 
that  every  regard  be  paid  to  their  personal  comfort 
and  security  ;  and  it  was  forbidden  to  separate,  in 
their  removal  to  distant  localities,  children  from  their 
parents,  and  husbands  from  their  wives  ;  in  short,  to 
divide  the  members  of  one  family  from  one  another. 


140  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

"This  was  an  act  of  clemency,"  says  a  Spanish 
chronicler,  "  which  they  little  deserved  ;  bat  his  Maj 
esty  is  willing  to  give  them  that  satisfaction."  If 
this  was  an  act  of  clemency  which  they  little  deserved, 
what  would  the  Spaniards  have  thought  if  the  loyal 
Moors  had  been  indemnified  by  Philip  for  their  con 
fiscated  lands  and  houses,  as  he  had  promised  ? 
Hence  that  indemnity  never  came,  so  far  as  we  can 
ascertain,  and  probably  the  plundered  exiles  had  too 
much  discretion  to  remind  Philip  of  his  pledge.  It 
would  have  been  as  unwise  as  if  lambs  had  bleated 
to  prevent  the  lion  from  forgetting  their  existence. 
In  the  distant  localities  whither  they  were  trans 
ported,  the  Moors  who  were  not  sold  into  servitude, 
and  who  remained  free,  had  but  a  sorry  kind  of  free 
dom  to  enjoy.  Not  only  were  they  forbidden  to 
seek  a  momentary  oblivion  of  their  miseries  by  re 
sorting  to  their  national  songs  and  dances  ;  not  only 
were  they  commanded,  under  the  harshest  penal 
ties,  not  to  speak  the  Arabic,  or  read  any  book 
written  in  that  language,  but  "no  one,"  says  Pres- 
cott  is  his  History  of  Philip,  "  was  allowed  to  change 
his  abode,  or  to  leave  the  parish  or  district  assigned 
to  him,  without  permission  from  the  regular  author 
ities.  Whoever  did  so,  and  was  apprehended  be 
yond  these  limits,  was  to  be  punished  with  a  hundred 
lashes  and  four  years'  imprisonment  in  the  galleys. 
Should  he  be  found  within  ten  leagues  of  Granada, 
he  was  condemned,  if  between  ten  and  seventeen 
years  of  age,  to  toil  as  a  galley-slave  the  rest  of  his 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  141 

days  ;  if  above  seventeen,  he  was  sentenced  to  death. 
On  the  escape  of  a  Morisco  from  his  limits,  the  hue 
and  cry  was  to  be  raised  as  for  the  pursuit  of  a 
criminal.  Even  his  own  family  were  required  to 
report  his  absence  to  the  magistrate  ;  and,  in  case  of 
their  failure  to  do  this,  they  incurred  the  penalty  of 
a  whipping  and  a  month's  imprisonment  in  the  com 
mon  jail."  This  is  one  of  the  specimens  of  Philip's 
internal  administration. 

In  this  insurrection  of  the  Moors,  and  in  the  war- 
which  resulted  to  subdue  them,  thousands  of  Span 
iards  lost  their  lives,  many  of  them  in  the  most  ex 
cruciating  tortures  inflicted  in  retaliation  by  their 
revengeful  foes.  The  Christian  soldiers  became 
demoralized  by  being  permitted  to  fight  like  bandits 
for  pillage,  and  to  divide  among  themselves  as  slaves 
the  captives  of  the  bow  and  the  spear.  Lust,  ava 
rice  and  cruelty  in  all  their  refinements  became  the 
order  of  the  day.  By  the  massacre  of  the  Moors 
and  the  transportation  of  those  who  were  spared  by 
the  sword,  the  Kingdom  of  Granada  lost  its  most 
useful  population — a  population  of  most  skillful  hus 
bandmen,  artisans  and  mechanics  ;  and,  although 
there  was  an  attempt  to  replace  them  by  an  immi 
gration  of  Spaniards,  who  were  allured  thither  by 
tempting  concessions,  favors  and  privileges  granted 
by  the  Government,  that  lovely  part  of  Spain,  that 
terrestrial  paradise,  received  a  blow  from  which  it 
has  not  recovered  to  this  day.  Where  industry  had 
spread  fertility  and  accumulated  wealth,  where  agri- 


142  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

culture  had  clothed  the  bosom  of  the  earth  with  a 
gorgeous  mantle  of  never-failing  harvests,  where 
taste  and  art  had  decorated  fairy  gardens  with  gar 
lands  of  fruits  and  flowers,  where  the  genius  of  archi 
tecture,  inspired  by  poetry  and  love,  had  thrown 
up  its  aerial  palaces,  which  looked  like  embroidered 
lace  petrified  into  stone,  indolence  and  pride,  like 
two  fraternal  spirits,  held  communion  together 
amidst  decay,  ruin  and  famine.  For  all  these  evils 
Philip  had  made  himself  responsible  before  God  and 
man. 

If  Philip  had  proposed  to  himself  to  blend  together 
the  Spanish  and  Moorish  elements,  so  as  to  produce 
in  his  Peninsular  dominions  a  unity  in  religion  and 
nationality,  he  was  signally  defeated  in  his  purpose  ; 
for  the  Moors,  scattered  and  oppressed  as  they  were, 
remained  obstinately  distinct  from  their  oppressors, 
notwithstanding  some  external  conformity  which 
they  assumed  for  their  own  protection,  and  many  of 
them,  who  were  ostensibly  Christians,  worshiped 
in  secret  the  God  of  Mahomet.  If  he  had  intended 
to  diminish  their  number  and  destroy  them  gradu 
ally,  he  was  not  more  successful  in  his  design,  for 
under  his  successor,  Philip  III.,  a  census  of  them 
having  been  attempted,  they  were  found  to  have 
increased  so  greatly,  that  their  enumeration  had  to  be 
given  up,  from  an  apprehension  of  making  them 
acquainted  with  their  strength.  Such  was  the  vital 
ity  of  that  extraordinary  race  !  Such  was  also  their 
industry  and  economical  habits  that,  notwithstand- 


PHILIP    II.    OF    SPAIN.  143 

ing  the  weight  of  the  yoke  which  bent  their  necks 
down  to  the  earth,  notwithstanding  the  disabilities 
against  which  they  had  to  contend  in  the  midst  of  a 
hostile  population  who  hated  them  with  the  pent-up 
and  accumulated  hatred  of  eight  centuries,  they 
were,  in  the  course  of  a  few  years,  accused  by  many, 
and  among  others  by  such  men  as  Cervantes,  of  ab 
sorbing  all  the  current  coin  of  Spain,  which  they 
either  concealed  in  secret  places,  or  found  the  means 
of  sending  oat  of  the  Kingdom.  They  were  said  to 
be  "  sponges  which  sucked  all  the  juice  of  the  land." 
They  were  reproached  with  being  so  keen  and  inde 
fatigable  in  the  pursuit  of  gain,  and  so  tenacious  of 
it  when  once  clutched  by  their  fingers,  that  even  a 
Jew  would  have  starved  among  them.  Be  it  as  it 
may,  it  is  certain  that  the  confiscation  of  all  the  lands 
and  houses  of  the  Moors  in  the  Kingdom  of  Granada, 
besides  other  spoils,  and  besides  selling  so  many  of 
the  captives  as  slaves,  did  not,  as  a  fiscal  resource, 
prove  of  much  advantage  to  Philip.  For,  shortly 
after  the  famous  battle  of  Lepanto,  in  which  the  naval 
power  of  the  Turks  was  destroyed,  Don  John  of  Aus 
tria  could  not  gather  from  his  victory  all  the  fruits 
which  ought  to  have  been  expected,  "  because,"  as  he 
wrote,  "he  had  not  a  single  real  for  the  necessities 
of  the  fleet,  but  had  incurred  a  debt  of  many  hun 
dred  thousands  of  ducats."  What  had  become  of 
the  stream  of  gold  which  was  to  flow  from  that  pow 
erful  machinery  of  confiscations,  taxes  and  contribu 
tions  so  skillfully  contrived  and  artistically  put  to- 


144  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

gether  to  pump  the  Netherlands  dry?  Certainly 
the  iron  hand  of  the  Duke  of  Alva  had  squeezed  the 
orange  to  the  last  drop.  Two  or  three  hundred 
thousand  Moors  had  been  stripped  of  everything. 
What  had  become  of  their  substance  ?  The  fact  is 
that,  by  a  just  dispensation  of  Providence,  the  rob 
ber  had  been  robbed,  and  Philip,  if  he  had  been  sus 
ceptible  of  being  enlightened  on  the  subject,  would 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  oppression  is 
doomed  to  that  sterility  to  which  it  is  said  that 
nature  condemns  all  monsters  ;  that  tears  are  not  the 
vivifying  water  which  blesses  the  land  with  product 
iveness  ;  that  iniquity  is  a  bad  adviser,  and  that 
spoliation  is  but  a  poor  secretary  of  the  treasury. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  145 


CHAPTER    V. 

SUCH  was  the  not  very  flattering  condition  of 
Spain,  as  described  in  the  preceding  Chapter,  when 
an  event  took  place,  preceded,  accompanied  and 
followed  by  circumstances  which  admirably  portray 
the  character  of  Philip,  together  with  the  manners  and 
morals  of  the  epoch,  and  which  had  the  most  fatal 
consequences  for  what  remained  of  the  liberties  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Aragon.  We  have  already  stated 
that  the  Princess  of  Eboli  was  suspected  on  good 
grounds  of  having  been  the  mistress  of  Philip. 
She  had  been  the  wife  of  Ruy  Gomez,  who,  from 
being  the  playmate  of  the  Prince  in  his  boyhood, 
had  risen  to  become  his  most  trusted  and  most 
favored  Minister.  During  her  husband's  life,  the 
Princess  had  been  supposed  to  exercise  great  influ 
ence  over  Philip,  by  whom  she  and  her  family  had 
been  loaded  with  favors.  After  that  husband's 
death,  she  did  not  seem  to  have  lost  her  long-enjoy 
ed  possession  of  the  affection  of  her  Sovereign. 
She  was  diminutive  in  size,  remarkable  for  beauty, 
haughty  in  temper,  unconquerable  in  her  pride, 
irresistible  in  the  exercise  of  the  fascination  with 
which  she  had  been  gifted  by  nature,  and  which  she 
10 


146  PHILIP   II.   OF   SPAIN 

had  studiously  improved ;  astute,  unscrupulous, 
loose  in  her  morals,  greedy  of  wealth  and  power, 
she  excelled  in  the  management  of  those  intrigues 
which  usually  secure  success  in  a  corrupt  court. 
She  had,  no  doubt,  materially  aided  her  husband  in 
reaching  and  retaining  the  elevated  position  which 
he  had  occupied  until  his  death  ;  and,  after  having 
lost  him,  she  worked  in  perfect  accord  with  one  of 
Philip's  most  confidential  ministers,  Antonio  Perez. 
This  man,  a  native  of  Aragon,  was  the  natural  son 
of  an  individual  of  the  same  name,  who,  during 
many  years,  had  been  Secretary  of  State  under 
Charles  V.  He  had  been  legitimated,  however,  by 
an  Imperial  decree,  and  had  been  employed  by 
Ruy  Gomez,  in  his  ministerial  Department.  He 
succeeded  so  well  in  pleasing  his  puissant  employer, 
that  he  soon  became  an  inmate  in  his  house,  was 
recommended  by  him  to  Philip,  and  was  granted 
almost  the  familiarity  and  the  privileges  of  a  son. 
Perez  had  received  in  Spain  a  distinguished  educa 
tion,  which  he  had  completed  abroad.  Talent  and 
memory  he  naturally  possessed  in  a  great  degree. 
All  the  profane  and  sacred  authors  were  familiar 
to  him,  and  in  his  travels  he  had  acquired  an  exten 
sive  knowledge  of  the  world.  He  was  as  well 
versed  in  the  Bible  and  the  writings  of  the  Holy 
Fathers  of  the  Church,  as  in  those  of  Tacitus,  Mach- 
iavel,  Horace  and  Ovid.  He  wrote  and  spoke 
Latin  and  several  other  languages  with  considerable 
facility.  He  was  so  prepossessing  in  his  person,  that 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  147 

he  always  produced  a  favorable  impression  at  first 
sight.  Eeiined  in  his  manners,  sagacious,  artful, 
flexible,  insinuating,  a  thorough  courtier,  unsur 
passed  in  dissimulation  and  self-possession,  he  had 
won  many  of  the  frail  beauties  of  the  Court,  and  he 
seemed  even  to  have  obtained  the  first  place  in  the 
cold  heart  of  his  Sovereign.  He  had  unquestionably 
become  the  most  influential  man  in  Spain  with  the 
King.  He  possessed  his  most  important  secrets, 
dispatched  the  most  delicate  affairs  of  State,  and 
had  been  constituted  a  sort  of  Universal  Minister, 
or  depositary  of  the  Eoyal  authority.  He  had 
learnt  to  penetrate  the  designs  of  Philip,  long  before 
they  were  made  known.  He  then  took  care  to 
stand  prepared  for  their  gradual  unfolding,  facilita 
ted  their  development,  or  modified  their  nature,  or 
even  frequently  checked  and  thwarted  them,  ac 
cording  to  the  promptings  of  his  own  interests, 
without  exciting  the  slightest  suspicion  in  his  mas 
ter's  mind.  Observing  a  crafty  neutrality,  a  studied 
indifference,  a  shrewd  reserve,  he  never  obtruded 
his  advice,  but  prudently  waited  until  he  was  con 
sulted  by  Philip,  although  he  secretly  angled  for,  or 
gave  birth  to,  the  occasion.  So  far,  all  had  succeed 
ed  with  him  on  the  slippery  and  dangerous  ground 
on  which  he  was  treading.  He  had  become  the 
favored  lover  of  the  Princess  of  Eboli,  and  although 
the  demonstrations  of  her  passion  were  sufficiently 
imprudent,  they  seem  not  to  have  been  known  to 
Philip,  which  is  certainly  wonderful,  considering  his 


148  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

proneness  to  suspicion,  the  number  of  the  spies  he 
had  in  pay,  and  the  wide-spread  activity  of  their 
minute  investigations.  Perez  had  also  had  the  art 
of  gaining  the  confidence  of  Don  John  of  Austria, 
and  of  his  Secretary,  Escovedo.  He  had  inspired 
them  with  so  much  faith  in  the  truth  of  his  friend 
ship,  that  they  had  nothing  concealed  from  him. 
The  arch- deceiver  made  use  of  it  to  discover  all 
their  plans  and  aspirations,  and  to  communicate 
them  to  the  King  with  exaggerations  and  misrepre 
sentations  to  suit  his  purpose.  In  those  conjunctures, 
Escovedo,  who,  as  well  as  Perez,  had  been  much  in 
debted  to  the  protection  of  the  Prince  of  Eboli,  and 
who  had  remained  grateful  for  it,  being  indignant  at 
the  scandalous  intimacy  which  existed  between  the 
Princess  and  Perez,  and  which  seemed  to  him  to  be 
an  affront  to  the  memory  of  his  benefactor,  had  the 
imprudence  to  remonstrate  with  them  on  the  subject, 
and  threatened  them  to  inform  the  King  of  their 
illicit  intercourse,  if  they  did  not  put  an  end  to  it- 
voluntarily.  The  Princess  treated  the  officious  inter- 
meddler  with  the  most  lofty  contempt ;  $he  dared  him 
to  the  worst,  and  even  scorned  to  deny  her  predilec 
tion  for  Perez.  This  individual,  when  addressed  by 
Escovedo,  was  more  smooth  than  the  Princess. 
But  the  guilty  pair  instantly  resolved  the  death  of 
Don  John's  Secretary,  and  Perez  went  to  work  to 
accomplish  it  with  his  usual  ability.  He  persuaded 
Philip  that  Escovedo  was  fanning  in  Don  John  the 
flames  of  a  criminal  ambition,  and  encouraging  that 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  149 

Prince  in  the  pursuit  of  designs  dangerous  to  the 
safety  of  the  King  and  the  welfare  of  the  Kingdom. 
This  was  enough  ;  the  King  ordered  Perez  to  put 
Escovedo  secretly  out  of  the  way.  Twice  Perez, 
showing  warmer  friendship  than  ever  to  Escovedo, 
and  inviting  him  to  his  table,  attempted  in  vain  to 
poison  him.  The  daggers  of  hired  assassins  were 
more  effectual,  and  Escovedo  ceased  to  be  an 
object  of  fear  to  Perez  and  the  Princess  of  Eboli. 
But  Philip  might  die,  and,  in  that  case,  the  resent 
ment  of  Don  John  might  become  fatal  to  Perez. 
Be  this  supposition  correct  or  not,  a  few  months 
after  Escovedo's  assassination,  Don  John  had  also 
ceased  to  exist,  and  it  was  thought  that  on  his  body 
were  found  all  the  signs  of  the  administration  of  a 
deadly  poison. 

No  doubt  Perez  now  thought  himself  secure 
against  all  denunciation,  and  laid  on  his  pillow  a 
head  less  disturbed  by  dreams  of  royal  vengeance. 
But  he  was  watched  by  the  sleepless  enmity  of  one 
who,  for  a  long  time,  had  been  biding  the  opportu 
nity  to  destroy  a  hated  rival.  That  enemy  was 
Mateo  Vasquez,  one  of  the  Ministers  of  Philip,  and 
the  blow  which  he  struck  at  last  was  well  aimed. 
On  the  28th  of  July,  1579,  during  the  night, 
by  order  of  the  King,  his  favorite  Minister,  Antonio 
Perez,  was  conveyed  to  a  prison  in  Madrid,  and  the 
Princess  of  Eboli  was  surprised  to  see  her  palace 
invaded  by  an  armed  force  which  conducted  her  to 
a  fortress  in  which  she  was  incarcerated.  What 


150  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

could  have  induced  Philip,  who  had  then  attained 
the  mature  age  of  fifty-three,  to  station  himself, 
mysteriously  wrapped  up  in  a  cloak,  under  the 
porch  of  the  Church  of  St.  Mary,  opposite  to  the 
residence  of  the  Princess,  to  look  at  her  as  she 
passed  under  escort  to  the  place  of  her  destined 
confinement  ?  If  by  the  light  of  the  torches  which 
flashed  round  her  carriage  the  eyes  of  those  two 
personages  met,  how  much  may  they  have  told  each 
other  in  that  transient  moment !  Was  it  love,  was 
it  hatred  that  had  thus  drawn  Philip  to  that  spot  ? 
Or  was  it  a  mixture  of  both  ?  Whatever  were  the 
feelings  pent  up  in  the  King's  breast,  the  arrest  of 
Antonio  Perez  and  of  the  Princess  of  Eboli  pro 
duced  almost  as  much  sensation  as  had  resulted 
from  the  imprisonment  of  Don  Carlos  ;  and  Madrid, 
particularly  in  the  precincts  of  the  Court,  was 
shaken  as  if  by  an  earthquake. 

Antecedently  to  this  event,  Perez  and  the  Prin 
cess  of  Eboli  had  been  denounced  to  the  King  by 
the  family  of  Escovedo  as  guilty  of  the  murder 
of  that  individual,  and  permission  had  been 
asked  to  proceed  to  a  judicial  investigation.  This 
had  been  done  at  the  instigation  of  Mateo 
Vasquez.  It  was  a  bold  move  ;  for  the  hired  assas 
sins,  who  were  known,  had  been  rewarded,  under 
the  sign-manual  of  the  King,  with  lucrative  offices 
in  Milan,  Naples  and  Sicily.  The  King,  however, 
did  not  reject  the  application  made  for  leave  to  be 
gin  a  criminal  prosecution  against  his  two  favorites, 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  151 

but  he  informed  Perez  of  what  was  going  on  and  of 
the  manoeuvres  of  his  enemies.  Perez  was  much 
alarmed,  and  having  expressed  his  fears  to  Philip, 
that  Prince  treated  him  with  affectionate  familiar 
ity,  tranquillized  him  as  a  friend  would  another,  and 
assured  him  of  his  never-failing  countenance  and 
support.  Thus  encouraged,  Perez  supplicated  his 
kind  protector  to  order  that  he,  Perez,  be  the  only 
person  prosecuted,  and  that  all  proceedings  be  stop 
ped  against  the  Princess  in  consideration  of  what 
was  due  to  the  honor  of  a  lady.  But  the  King 
pursued  a  different  course.  He  requested  the 
President  of  the  Court  of  Castile,  Don  Antonio 
Pazos,  Bishop  of  Cordova,  and  the  particular 
friend  of  Perez,  to  speak  to  the  son  of  Escovedo 
and  induce  him  to  withdraw  the  accusation.  "  As 
sure  him,"  said  the  King,  "  that  it  is  to  my  knowl 
edge  that  the  Princess  of  Eboli  and  Perez  are  as 
guiltless  of  the  death  of  his  father  as  myself.'7 
Escovedo's  son,  on  being  thus  informed  of  the 
Eoyal  pleasure,  had  of  course  but  one  thing  to  do, 
which  was  to  desist  from  his  accusation  in  the  name 
of  his  family.  One  would  have  supposed  the  affair 
at  an  end,  but  Secretary  Mateo  Yasquez,  notwith 
standing  Philip's  asseveration  that  the  Princess 
and  Perez  were  innocent,  most  unaccountably  and 
tenaciously  insisted  that  they  were  guilty,  and 
became  their  accuser  in  his  turn.  He  must  have 
known,  or  suspected,  that  in  so  acting  he  secretly 
pleased  the  King.  Thus  assailed  by  one  of  his 


152  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

colleagues  in  the  Council  of  Ms  Sovereign,  Perez 
asked  leave  to  resign  his  post,  but  Philip  did  not 
consent  to  it.  As  to  the  Princess,  she  haughtily 
complained  to  the  Monarch  of  the  conduct  and 
enmity  of  Yasquez.  She  wrote  to  him  a  note, 
in  which  she  bitterly  resented,  the  affront  against 
which  she  thought  that,  as  a  King  and  a  gentleman, 
he  was  bound  to  protect  her,  and  she  requested  his 
Majesty  to  return  the  note  after  its  perusal,  as  it  con 
tained  sentiments  which  she  had  ventured  freely 
to  express,  "  under  the  full  conviction  that  she  was 
addressing  a  gentleman."  The  King  answered 
enigmatically,  as  one  who  did  not  seem  disposed 
to  give  her  the  satisfaction  which  she  desired,  but 
who,  at  the  same  time,  was  afraid  of  incurring  her 
displeasure.  He  appeared  anxious  that  the  Prin 
cess  should  become  reconciled  with  Mateo  Yasquez, 
and,  with  a  view  to  obtain  it,  he  employed  the 
agency  of  Diego  de  Chaves,  his  confessor.  But  all 
the  efforts  of  the  Priest  miscarried  against  the 
stately  resolution  of  the  Princess,  who  rejected  all 
his  entreaties  with  imperious  harshness.  Baffled 
in  that  quarter,  Chaves  turned  to  Perez,  and  en 
deavored  to  bring  a  reconciliation  between  him  and 
Mateo  Yasquez  ;  but  Perez,  being  irritated  by  an 
affront  which  he  had  recently  received  from  his 
colleague,  and,  besides,  being  stimulated  by  the 
Princess,  showed  himself  equally  inflexible. 

It  is  impossible  to  imagine  that  Mateo  Yasquez, 
on   that  occasion,    was   acting  a   part  contrary  to 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  153 

Philip's  wishes.  What  the  King  was  aiming  at  while 
resorting  to  all  these  mysterious  plays  and  by-plays, 
plots  and  counterplots,  and  while  confounding  every 
body  with  such  startling  contradictions,  it  is  not  easy 
to  conceive.  Some  believe  that  his  sole  object  was 
to  gain  time  and  acquire  the  proof  of  the  relations 
supposed  to  exist  between  the  Princess  and  Perez, 
and  that  it  was  when  he  became  satisfied  on  this 
point,  that  his  resentment  prompted  him  to  strike 
the  blow  which  had  been  so  long  impending,  and  to 
act  as  we  have  described,  on  the  night  of  the  28th 
of  July,  1579.  Be  it  as  it  may,  here  are  Perez  and 
the  Princess  of  Eboli  incarcerated.  The  cause  al 
leged  by  Philip  for  this  measure  was  not  their  being 
suspected  of  murder,  but  that  they  had  refused 
to  be  reconciled  with  Mateo  Vasquez.  A  singular 
ground,  truly,  for  a  criminal  prosecution  to  rest 
upon  !  Another  singularity  in  this  case  was  that, 
on  the  next  day,  the  King  sent  the  Cardinal  of 
Toledo  to  console  the  wife  of  Antonio  Perez  for  the 
misfortune  which  had  happened  to  her  husband,  and 
commissioned  his  confessor,  Chaves,  to  visit  Perez 
himself  in  his  prison  for  the  same  purpose.  Among 
other  things  pleasant  to  the  prisoner's  ears,  the 
Priest  told  him  in  a  sportive  manner  to  be  of  good 
cheer,  because  "  his  disease  was  not  mortal."  Not 
withstanding  this  assurance,  the  prisoner  had  too 
much  sense  and  sagacity  not  to  understand  the  perils 
of  his  situation,  and  too  much  pride  not  to  be  morti 
fied  by  his  sudden  fall.  His  health  having  been 


154  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

altered  by  his  anxieties,  he  was  permitted  to  be 
transferred  from  his  prison  to  his  own  house.  There 
the  Captain  of  the  King's  guard,  shortly  after,  pre 
sented  himself,  and,  in  the  name  of  his  Majesty, 
requested  him  to  swear  friendship  to  Mateo  Vasquez, 
and  to  promise  under  the  same  sanction  of  a  solemn 
oath  that  neither  he,  nor  any  member  of  his  family, 
should  ever  do  any  harm  to  that  personage.  Perez 
complied  with  this  request,  and  remained  eight 
months  confined  to  his  house,  with  guards  who  never 
lost  sight  of  him.  At  the  expiration  of  that  time,  he 
obtained  leave  to  go  to  church,  to  take  exercise  out 
of  doors,  and  to  receive  visits,  but  not  to  pay  any. 
Among  all  the  strange  features  of  this  strange  affair, 
one  which  is  no  less  remarkable  is,  that  in  this  nomi 
nal  state  of  arrest,  Perez,  who  had  never  ceased  to 
be  Minister,  transacted  all  the  business  appertaining 
to  his  Department,  as  if  he  had  been  as  free  as  be 
fore,  and  that  this  most  equivocal  condition  of  things 
continued  when  Philip,  during  the  summer  of  1580, 
went  to  Portugal  to  take  possession  of  that  Kingdom- 
Perez  had,  as  in  the  past,  his  official  relations  with 
all  the  Councils  of  his  Majesty  in  Madrid,  and  even 
with  the  King  himself  whilst  at  Lisbon.  He  cor 
responded  with  the  Princess  of  Eboli,  and  lived  with 
as  much  luxury  and  pomp  as  he  had  displayed  when 
at  the  zenith  of  his  favor. 

The  President  of  the  Council  of  Castile,  Pazos, 
was  very  active  in  his  exertions  to  rehabilitate 
Perez,  and,  it  was  thought,  with  some  probability  of 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  155 

success,  when  the  son  of  Escovedo  reappeared  on  the 
stage  and  renewed  his  accusation.  As  to  the  King, 
he  seemed  to  vacillate  between  the  accused  and  the 
accuser,  to  be  sick  of  the  whole  affair,  and  to  act  like 
one  who  was  desirous  of  setting  the  prisoner  at 
liberty,  but  was  restrained  from  it  by  some  inex 
plicable  apprehensions.  At  last,  after  two  years  of 
apparent  hesitation,  he  issued  a  secret  commission 
directed  to  the  President  of  the  Council  of  Hacienda, 
Kodrigo  Yasquez  de  Arce,  empowering  him  to  in 
stitute  secret  judicial  proceedings  against  Perez, 
and  instructing  him  to  make  the  witnesses  swear 
that  they  would  not  divulge  to  anybody  what  they 
testified  before  the  tribunal.  The  trial  began  on 
the  30th  of  May,  1582,  and  most  of  the  witnesses 
were  of  the  highest  rank.  From  their  declarations 
it  appears  that  Perez  had  made  enormous  profits  in 
the  exercise  of  his  Ministerial  patronage  ;  that  Don 
John  of  Austria,  that  the  Genoese  Admiral  Andrea 
Doria,  that  Princes,  Viceroys  and  other  exalted 
personages  used,  year  after  year,  to  make  munificent 
presents  to  him  as  bribes  for  his  keeping  them  in 
office  ;  that  the  candidates  for  office  under  the  Gov 
ernment  thought  it  an  economy  to  give  to  Perez,  in 
order  to  obtain  the  gratification  of  their  desires, 
what  they  would  have  spent  whilst  dancing  attend 
ance  in  the  antechambers  of  the  Court,  and  that,  in 
thus  acting,  they  accomplished  better  and  prompter 
results ;  that  having  inherited  nothing  from  his 
father,  he  nevertheless  possessed  a  colossal  fortune, 


156  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

and  lived  with  more  splendor  than  any  Grandee  of 
Spain  ;  that  he  had  a  variety  of  gorgeous  equipages  ; 
that  his  stables  were  full  of  horses,  and  that  he  kept 
a  multitude  of  pages  and  lacqueys  ;  that  the  furniture 
of  his  house  was  worth  more  than  two  millions  of 
ducats  ;  that  he  had  ordered  for  himself  a  bed  like 
that  of  the  King  ;  that  tables  for  gambling  were  al 
ways  set  up  in  his  house,  where  the  Admiral  of  Cas 
tile,  the  Marquis  of  Aunon  and  other  magnates  had 
lost  thousands  of  doubloons  ;  that  his  intimacy  with 
the  Princess  of  Eboli  was  scandalous  ;  that  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  receiving  from  her,  in  the  way  of 
presents,  mule  or  horse-loads  of  silver  ;  that  to  him 
and  to  the  Princess  of  Eboli  was  attributed  the  death 
of  Escovedo.  All  these  testimonies,  as  it  is  seen, 
threw  very  little  light  upon  the  crime  of  murder  of 
which  Perez  was  accused,  and  alluded  merely  to  a 
general  rumor  on  the  subject,  which  could  not  be 
received  as  evidence  in  any  court  of  justice.  The 
shameful  venality  of  the  Minister,  the  insulting  dis 
play  of  magnificence  exhibited  by  the  upstart,  his 
dishonestly  acquired  opulence,  his  licentious  morals 
and  habits,  his  illicit  intercourse  with  the  Princess 
of  Eboli,  were  sufficiently  established,  although  ir 
relevant  to  the  prosecution.  Notwithstanding  all 
that  was  thus  proved  before  the  Secret  Tribunal, 
there  was  no  change  made  in  the  lenient  manner  in 
which  he  was  treated,  and  he  remained  in  the  same 
state  of  semi-arrest.  It  is  difficult  to  believe  that 
all  these  circumstances  were  not  known  to  Philip 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  157 

long  before  ;  for  it  is  a  matter  of  history  how  mar- 
velously  well  served  he  was  by  his  Police  of  Spies? 
and  what  a  delight  he  took  in  being  made  acquaint 
ed,  not  only  with  all  the  particulars  of  the  life  of  his 
Courtiers,  but  also  of  some  of  his  humblest  subjects. 
If  Philip  had  not  been  ignorant  of  the  criminal  de 
portment  of  his  Minister,  how  came  he,  for  so  many 
years,  not  only  to  tolerate  it,  but  even  to  continue 
his  favor  to  the  perpetrator  of  such  offences  ?  If 
he  had  not  been  aware  of  their  existence,  how  is  it 
that,  as  soon  as  they  were  revealed  to  him,  he  did 
not  punish  Perez  accordingly,  and  did  not  even  sen 
tence  him  to  a  more  rigorous  imprisonment  ?  Fear 
ful  must  have  been  the  secrets  which  bound  together 
the  Monarch  and  his  Secretary  of  State,  and  great 
must  have  been  the  precautions  which  Perez  must 
have  taken,  and  the  pledges  and  securities  which 
he  must  have  had  in  his  hands,  to  protect  himself 
against  such  a  man  as  Philip,  and  keep  him  at  bay 
in  case  of  necessity. 

Nothing  further  was  done  for  three  years,  and  the 
prosecution  seemed  to  have  gone  to  sleep,  when,  in 
the  beginning  of  1585,  a  new  turn  was  given  to  this 
affair.  The  time  having  come  when,  according  to 
the  usages  and  laws  of  Spain,  public  functionaries 
had  to  render  to  a  Commissioner  appointed  by  the 
Sovereign  an  account  of  the  manner  in  which  they 
had  discharged  their  duties,  Philip  ordered  Don 
Tomas  de  Salazar,  a  Member  of  the  Council  of  the 
Inquisition,  to  examine  into  the  administration  of 


158  PHILIP   II.   OF  SPAIN. 

his  Ministers  of  State.  This  was  a  Special  Tribunal, 
before  which  the  acts  of  a  public  functionary  were 
arraigned,  without  his  being  given  a  copy  of  the 
proceedings,  or  a  list  of  the  witnesses  heard  against 
him.  It  resulted  from  the  investigations  of  Salazar, 
that  heavy  charges  were  proved  against  Perez,  and, 
among  others,  that  he  had  divulged  secrets  of  State, 
and  that  he  had  made  alterations,  additions  and  sup 
pressions  in  diplomatic  dispatches  written  in  cipher  ; 
and,  in  particular,  that  he  had  falsified  the  corre 
spondence  of  Don  John  of  Austria.  Perez  justified 
himself  by  saying  that,  in  these  matters,  he  had 
acted  according  to  the  King's  instructions.  But, 
notwithstanding  this  defence,  he  was  condemned, 
without  the  observation  on  his  behalf  of  the  accus 
tomed  formalities  in  such  cases,  and  on  the  simple 
and  mere  finding  of  the  Koyal  Commissioner,  Don 
Tomas  de  Salazar,  to  a  fine  of  thirty  thousand  ducats, 
to  be  suspended  from  office  for  ten  years,  to  be  im 
prisoned  in  a  fortress  for  two,  and,  at  the  expiration 
of  which,  to  be  exiled  from  the  Court  for  eight 
years.  According  to  orders,  two  Alcaldes  went  to 
his  house  to  take  possession  of  his  person,  and  found 
him  quietly  conversing  with  his  wife.  Whilst  one 
of  the  Alcaldes  was  searching  for  papers,  the  prisoner 
very  artfully  deceived  the  vigilance  of  the  other, 
and,  entering  into  a  contiguous  room,  jumped  through 
a  window  which  opened  on  the  Church  of  San  Justo, 
in  which  he  took  refuge.  The  Alcaldes  raised  the 
hue  and  cry,  and  with  a  number  of  assistants  ran  to 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  159 

the  church.  The  doors,  being  closed,  were  soon 
battered  down  on  admittance  being  refused.  Noth 
ing  intimidated  by  the  sanctity  of  the  place,  and 
after  having  thus  forced  their  entrance  into  the 
temple,  the  Alcaldes  searched  it  with  scrupulous  at 
tention,  and  at  last  found  Perez  hidden  under  the 
roof  of  the  edifice.  They  laid  hold  of  him,  put  him 
in  a  carriage,  and  drove  him  to  the  Castle  of  Ture- 
gano,  where  he  was  to  undergo  his  sentence.  Thus 
far  the  Minister  appears  to  have  been  condemned 
for  peculations  and  other  official  abuses,  but  of  the 
murder  of  Escovedo  not  a  word  was  said. 

The  forcible  extraction  of  Perez  from  the  sanctu 
ary  whither  he  had  fled  for  security,  gave  rise  to  a 
conflict  of  jurisdiction  between  the  ecclesiastical  and 
civil  authorities.  The  Church  demanded  the  restora 
tion  of  the  prisoner,  and  censured  the  Alcaldes  for  their 
sacrilegious  violation  of  the  sanctity  of  a  sacred  place. 
The  Court,  in  the  name  of  which  the  Alcaldes  had  act 
ed,  refused  to  give  up  the  prisoner.  This  quarrel  lasted 
two  years,  until  Philip  made  up  his  mind  to  order 
the  ecclesiastical  censures  and  other  proceedings 
held  in  the  case  by  the  clergy  to  be  withdrawn  and 
annulled.  In  the  mean  time  Perez  remained  in  irons 
in  the  fortress  of  Turegano  ;  all  his  property  had 
been  sequestrated,  and  he  had  not  been  permitted 
to  communicate  with  any  of  his  friends.  Such  was 
his  condition,  when  the  King  went  to  Aragon  to 
hold  the  Cortes  of  that  Kingdom,  the  time  for  the 
meeting  of  that  body  having  arrived.  He  was  ac- 


160  PHILIP   II.    OF    SPAIN. 

companied  by  Rodrigo  Yasquez,  who  was  the  Judge 
appointed  to  take  cognizance  of  the  criminal  prosecu 
tion  instituted  against  Perez  in  relation  to  the  mur 
der  of  Escovedo.  It  looks  as  if  the  King  was  con 
scious  that  something  would  turn  up  in  Aragon 
concerning  Perez,  in  which  the  ministry  of  the  Judge 
would  be  required.  We  have  felt  some  curiosity  to 
ascertain  whether  Judge  Rodrigo  Yasquez  was  a 
relative  of  Secretary  Mateo  Yasquez,  one  of  the 
most  ardent  prosecutors  of  Perez,  but  we  have 
not  been  able  to  gratify  our  desire.  Be  it  as 
it  may,  as  soon  as  the  King  arrived  in  Aragon, 
another  change  took  place  in  this  extraordinary 
trial,  which  seemed  to  be  constantly  assuming  dif 
ferent  hues  like  the  dying  dolphin.  It  will  be  re 
membered  that,  to  this  time,  very  little  had  been 
said  and  still  less  had  been  proved  about  the  assas 
sination  of  Escovedo.  But,  in  Aragon,  one  Anto 
nio  Enriquez  came  forward,  avowed  himself  one  of 
the  assassins  at  the  instigation  of  Perez,  and  offered 
to  tell  the  whole  truth  about  that  crime,  because,  as 
he  stated,  his  brother's  life  had  lately  been  endan 
gered  by  an  attempt  made  by  Perez  to  poison  him. 
His  declarations  made  known,  for  the  first  time,  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  assassination  and  the  names 
of  those  who  had  participated  in  it  as  accomplices. 
The  wife  and  the  major-domo  of  Perez  became  impli 
cated  in  this  affair. 

Informed  of  all  that  had  taken  place,  and  afraid 
of  the  consequences  of  the  revelations  made  by  En- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  161 

riquez,  Perez  sought  to  fly  from  bis  prison.  Two 
mares  of  extreme  fleetness,  and  shod  with  shoes  re 
versed,  so  that  his  pursuers  might  be  deceived  as  to 
the  direction  he  had  taken,  were  kept  in  readiness 
by  his  friends.  But  his  plan  was  discovered  before 
it  could  be  executed,  and  he  was  condemned  to  an 
imprisonment  still  more  rigorous.  His  wife  and 
sons  were  also  incarcerated,  and  debarred  communi 
cation  with  the  outer  world.  Philip's  confessor, 
Diego  de  Chaves,  and  the  Count  de  Parejas,  Presi 
dent  of  the  Council  of  Castile,  visited  her  in  her  cell, 
and  demanded  the  surrender  of  the  papers  of  her 
husband.  She  stoutly  refused  for  a  long  time,  until 
Perez,  who  was  afraid,  on  her  behalf,  of  the  conse 
quences  of  her  obstinate  refusal,  found  the  means  of 
sending  to  her  a  note  written  with  his  own  blood,  in 
which  he  requested  her  to  surrender  two  boxes 
which  he  designated  to  her.  She  obeyed,  and  put 
them,  closed  and  sealed  as  they  were,  into  the  hands 
of  the  confessor,  who  received  them  with  great 
demonstrations  of  joy  and  carried  them  to  Philip. 
This  was  in  1587.  Eight  years  had  already  elapsed 
since  the  night  when  Perez  and  the  Princess  of 
Eboli  had  been  arrested.  As  soon  as  the  surrender 
of  these  boxes  was  made,  the  wife  and  sons  of  Perez 
were  set  at  liberty,  and  he  himself  was  treated  with 
more  leniency.  He  was  brought  back  to  Madrid 
from  the  fortress  where  he  had  been  confined,  and 
was  permitted  to  occupy  a  private  house,  which  was 
assigned  to  him  as  his  prison,  but  in  which,  to  the 
11 


162  PHILIP    II.  OF   SPAIN. 

astonishment  of  all,  he  was  allowed  a  considerable 
degree  of  freedom  of  action.  He  received  visits, 
and  was  sometimes  seen  in  the  streets.  The  public 
mind  was  greatly  excited  at  this  novelty.  What 
did  it  mean?  Was  a  man,  whom  witnesses  had 
sworn  to  be  guilty  of  murder  and  of  so  many  other 
crimes,  travelling  back,  on  the  high  road  of  royal 
favor,  to  the  possession  of  as  much  power  as  he  had 
enjoyed  before?  Eodrigo  Yasquez,  the  Judge  in 
the  case,  being  interrogated  by  his  friends  on  the 
subject,  replied:  "What  shall  I  tell  you?  The 
King  himself  sometimes  stimulates  me,  and  directs 
the  hand  with  which  I  grasp  the  accused,  and  some 
times  pulls  it  back,  and  checks  all  proceedings.  I 
do  not  understand  it,  nor  do  I  venture  to  penetrate 
into  the  mystery  of  the  relations  existing  between 
the  Sovereign  and  his  vassal.'7  Whatever  those  re 
lations  were,  it  is  evident  that  the  King  had  found 
his  match.  Perez  knew  Philip  thoroughly,  and  had 
so  taken  his  precautions  that  the  master  could  not 
strike  at  his  servant  without  striking  at  himself. 
The  two  boxes  which  had  been  so  anxiously  coveted 
did  not  probably  contain  all  the  documents  which 
Philip  desired  to  get  back.  Perez  had  been  too 
astute,  notwithstanding  his  apparent  compliance,  to 
thrust  his  head  entirely  into  the  lion's  mouth,  with 
out  interposing  something  to  prevent  the  ferocious 
beast  from  bringing  together  the  upper  and  lower 
row  of  his  formidable  teeth.  Hence  the  trial  was 
kept  slowly  and  innocuously  dragging  itself  along, 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  163 

like  a  half- torpid  snake  which  might,  however,  at 
any  time,  be  sufficiently  roused  to  sting  and  kill. 

But,  although  moving  sluggishly,  the  trial  still 
went  on.  The  Major-domo,  Diego  Martinez,  and  the 
wife  of  Perez,  denied  all  participation  in  or  knowl 
edge  of  the  assassination,  either  as  accomplices  or 
otherwise  ;  and,  with  regard  to  Perez,  six  witnesses 
were  introduced  on  his  behalf  to  rebut  the  testi 
mony  of  Enriquez.  The  guilt  of  the  accused,  there 
fore,  remained  a  matter  of  uncertainty,  and  he  wrote 
to  the  King  several  pressing  letters,  in  which  he 
begged  his  Majesty  to  bring  the  trial  to  a  close. 
But  Philip  paid  no  attention  to  the  supplications  of 
his  former  favorite  minister,  and  contented  himself 
with  delivering  those  letters  to  his  confessor  and  to 
Judge  Rodrigo  Yasquez,  with  instructions  to  annex 
them  to  the  proceedings.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
son  of  Escovedo  petitioned  the  King  for  further  de 
lay,  in  order  to  look  round  for  other  proofs.  In 
these  conjunctures,  the  Royal  confessor,  Don  Diego  de 
Chaves,  wrote  successively  two  letters  to  Perez, 
exhorting  him  to  confess  the  truth,  which,  if  known, 
would  clear  him  from  all  guilt  and  open  the  doors 
of  his  prison.  "The  vassal/7  said  the  priest,  "  who 
kills  another  man  by  the  order  of  his  Sovereign,  is 
free  from  all  blame,  because  the  King,  being  master 
of  the  lives  of  his  subjects,  can  dispose  of  the  same 
as  he  pleases,  either  with  or  without  the  formalities 
of  a  trial,  and  in  any  way  he  deems  it  expedient, 
because  he  has  the  right  to  dispense  with  all  judi- 


164  PHILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN. 

cial  proceedings,  and  because  it  is  proper  to  suppose 
that  he  takes  such  a  course  on  just  grounds.  Thus, 
the  criminal  prosecution  must  stop  on  your  declar 
ing  the  truth,  and  Escovedo  will  have  to  be  satisfied 
with  the  action  of  his  Majesty.  If  not,  he  will  be 
ordered  to  keep  silent,  to  leave  the  Court,  and  to  be 
grateful  that  no  more  is  done  to  him,  without  declar 
ing  to  him  what  it  might  be,  because  it  is  never 
necessary  to  make  any  such  revelation  on  any  occa 


sion." 


With  such  confessors  to  guide  his  conscience,  it  is 
not  astonishing  that  Philip  should  have  acted  as  he 
did  during  his  long  life,  and  should  have  died  with 
out  remorse,  and  without  fearing  that  he  had  for 
feited  his  claims  to  enter  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 
As  to  Perez,  he  easily  understood  that  the  advice  of 
the  confessor  was  a  snare  to  entrap  him.  If  he  ad 
mitted  that  he  had  murdered  Escovedo  by  the  order 
of  the  King,  he  was  bound  to  prove  it,  <  .r  be  sent  to 
the  scaffold  ;  and  if  he  proved  it  by  producing  some 
written  authority  given  by  his  Majesty,  he  would  be 
guilty  of  revealing  a  State  secret,  of  having  deceived 
his  master  when  pretending  to  have  delivered  all 
the  papers  in  his  possession,  and  of  having  betrayed 
him  at  last,  notwithstanding  the  private  as  well  as 
official  confidence  so  long  reposed  by  the  Liege  Lord 
in  the  fidelity  and  discretion  of  his  vassal.  Perez, 
therefore,  artfully  avoided  the  breakers  ahead,  to 
which  his  bark  would  have  drifted,  if  he  had  fol 
lowed  the  direction  pointed  out  by  the  subtle 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  165 

priest,  and  preferred  negotiating  with  the  accuser. 
In  consequence  of  this  determination,  Escovedo's 
son  was  first  intimidated  by  a  threatening  anony 
mous  letter,  and  was  next  offered  a  large  sum  of 
money  to  retire  from  the  prosecution  and  be  no 
longer  a  party  to  the  suit.  He  consented  to  it,  and, 
by  a  written  act  formally  and  solemnly  registered 
in  Court,  he  desisted  from  all  further  proceedings 
against  Perez,  and  declared  himself  satisfied  of  his 
innocence.  With  this  document  in  hand,  Perez 
prayed  that  his  trial  be  closed,  as  the  party  aggrieved 
had  withdrawn  his  complaint,  unless  somebody  else 
appeared  against  him.  Thus  this  curious  affair 
seemed  to  be  at  an  end  this  time,  when  Judge  Rod- 
rigo  Yasquez  persuaded  the  King,  or  the  King 
feigned  to  be  persuaded,  that  the  royal  name  hav 
ing  been  brought  into  play,  and  actually  committed 
by  a  rumor  which  had  spread  through  the  public, 
and  which  attributed  to  him  the  assassination  of  Es- 
covedo  through  the  agency  of  the  Secretary  of  State, 
the  honor  of  the  Crown  required,  should  the  rumor 
be  founded  on  any  truth,  that  Antonio  Perez  should 
be  compelled  to  declare  and  prove  judicially  the 
justice  of  the  motive  which  had  led  to  that  summary 
and  sanguinary  execution.  The  accused,  who  was 
already  congratulating  himself  on  his  fortunate 
escape,  was  struck  with  amazement  on  receiving 
from  the  Judge  the  following  communication,  ad 
dressed  to  that  functionary  under  the  hand  and  seal 
of  Philip  himself:  " Mr.  President,  you  may  tell 


166  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

Antonio  Perez  (and,  if  necessary,  yon  may  show 
him  these  lines)  that  he  knows  full  well  the  part 
which  I  had  in  the  death  of  Escovedo,  and  the  rea 
sons  which  he  gave  me  for  it.  Considering  that,  for 
my  personal  satisfaction  and  for  the  rest  of  my  con 
science,  it  suits  me  to  know  if  those  reasons  were 
sufficient  or  not,  I  order  him  to  communicate  them 
to  you,  and  to  prove  clearly  that  what  he  had  said 
to  me  on  that  occasion  was  true.  I  have  already  im 
parted  to  you  minutely  all  that  he  told  me,  in  order 
that  you  should  proceed  to  its  verification  according 
to  my  intentions." 

This  new  complication,  in  an  affair  sufficiently  dark 
and  perplexing  from  the  beginning,  came  upon  the 
public  like  a  thunder-clap  in  a  serene  day.  There 
were  no  bounds  to  the  general  astonishment.  "  Sir,'7 
said  the  Archbishop  of  Toledo  to  the  Eoyal  Confess 
or,  "  I  am  either  mad  myself,  or  there  is  madness 
in  these  proceedings.  If  the  King  ordered  Perez 
to  have  Escovedo  killed,  what  account  does  he  ask 
at  the  hands  of  his  agent,  and  to  what  purpose  ? 
Let  him  reflect  and  he  will  see  it.'7  But  notwithstand 
ing  these  observations,  the  accused  was  subjected  to  a 
closer  imprisonment,  and  some  of  the  doors  and 
windows  of  the  house  he  occupied  were  nailed  or 
walled  up.  Perez  challenged  Judge  Yasquez  on  sug 
gesting  probably  a  want  of  impartiality,  but  Philip 
maintained  him  in  the  exercise  of  his  judicial 
functions.  He  gave  him,  however,  an  adjunct  in 
the  person  of  Juan  Gomez,  a  member  of  the  Royal 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  167 

Council.  The  accused,  being  repeatedly  interroga 
ted  as  to  the  causes  of  the  death  of  Escovedo, 
replied  perse  veringly  that  he  had  nothing  to  say 
beyond  what  was  on  record  against  him.  Displeas 
ed  with  his  refusal  to  answer  the  interrogatories, 
the  Judges  ordered  him  to  be  put  in  irons,  and  his 
wife  to  be  again  arrested.  But  this  treatment  did 
not  shake  the  determination  which  Perez  had  taken 
to  remain  silent,  although  he  was,  several  times, 
earnestly  pressed  to  comply  with  the  request  con 
tained  in  the  King's  letter  to  the  Tribunal.  To 
conquer  his  obstinacy,  the  Court  determined  to 
submit  him  to  the  torture.  In  vain  he  invoked  in 
his  favor  one  of  the  privileges  of  Spanish  nobility 
—that  of  being  exempt  from  the  application  of  this 
barbarous  process  of  obtaining  proofs  of  imputed 
delinquencies  or  crimes.  The  Judges  were  inexor 
able,  and  the  grim  executioner  of  the  law  presented 
himself  to  Perez  in  his  dungeon  with  the  terrible 
apparatus  which  belonged  to  his  functions.  He 
stripped  of  his  clothes  the  former  Secretary  of  State 
and  confidential  servant  of  Philip,  tied  his  arms 
crosswise  on  his  breast,  and  proceeded  to  the  several 
operations  of  the  torture  in  the  presence  of  the 
Judges,  whose  silent  and  ruthless  insensibility 
contrasted  strangely  with  the  bodily  contortions 
and  the  dismal  shrieks  of  the  patient.  At  last,  the 
fortitude  of  Perez  yielded  to  his  physical  sufferings, 
and,  to  escape  from  the  continuance  of  his  horrible  tor 
ments,  he  declared  the  political  causes  which  had 


168  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

led  to  the  death  of  Escovedo,  and  which  were  such 
as  we  have  already  briefly  mentioned  in  the  preced 
ing  pages.  He  also  averred  that  he  had  been  silent 
thus  far,  to  maintain  his  fidelity  to  the  King,  and  to 
comply  with  the  written  order  of  his  Majesty 
enjoining  him  never  to  reveal  that  secret.  The 
infliction  of  the  torture  produced  a  very  serious 
illness,  which  endangered  the  life  of  Perez.  A  phy 
sician  declared  that  Perez  had  been  thrown  into  a 
violent  fever,  and  that  death  would  certainly  ensue, 
if  he  was  not  properly  attended  to,  as  his  situation 
required.  Due  attention  was  paid  to  the  medical 
recommendation,  and  Perez  was  permitted  to  be 
assisted  by  a  servant.  Shortly  after,  his  disconso 
late  wife,  who  had  been  released  from  her  imprison 
ment,  and  his  afflicted  children,  were  so  incessantly 
active  in  their  solicitations,  that  they  obtained,  by 
dint  of  imploring  tears  and  touching  lamentations, 
leave  to  have  access  to  the  sufferer  and  to  offer  him 
their  consolations  and  ministering  cares.  It  was 
then  that  Perez,  convinced  that  his  implacable  ene 
mies  had  resolved  on  his  utter  ruin,  meditated  and 
prepared  to  fly  as  soon  as  his  health  should  permit. 
When  that  time  came,  every  arrangement  having 
been  made,  Perez,  assuming  the  dress  of  his  wife, 
and  concealed  under  the  long  veil  which  she  usually 
wore,  passed  through  his  guards  without  being 
discovered  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the  19th 
of  April,  1590,  and,  without  encountering  any  other 
danger  than  that  which  he  ran  on  meeting  a  patrol, 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  169 

succeeded  in  joining  some  friends  who  were  await 
ing  him  outside  of  the  walls  of  the  city.  Although 
very  feeble,  and  still  with  aching  limbs,  he  took 
to  horse,  and  did  not  stop  until  he  reached  Aragon 
in  safety.  It  will  be  recollected  that  he  was  a 
native  of  that  Kingdom,  under  the  shield  of  whose 
privileges  and  immunities  he  had  always  intended 
to  seek  shelter,  and  where  he  hoped  to  find  assist 
ance  and  protection. 

On  the  next  day,  the  flight  of  Perez  being  known, 
his  wife  and  sons  were  incarcerated,  and  an  order 
was  sent  to  Aragon  to  seize  him  and  bring  him 
back  dead  or  alive.  The  order  overtook  him  in 
Calatayud,  the  second  town  of  that  Kingdom  in  im 
portance,  but  he  had  already  taken  refuge  in  a 
convent  of  Dominicans,  and  when  the  King's  Emis 
sary  presented  himself  to  arrest  the  fugitive,  he  was 
opposed  by  a  Deputy  of  the  Kingdom,  Don  Juan  de 
Luna,  at  the  head  of  forty  Arquebusiers.  From 
Calatayud  Antonio  Perez  wrote  a  very  humble 
letter  to  the  King,  in  which  he  explained  the 
reasons  of  his  flight,  apologized  for  it,  and  begged 
that  his  wife  and  children  be  sent  to  him.  He  for 
warded  copies  of  his  letter  to  Cardinal  Quiroga  and 
to  the  Confessor  of  Philip,  Don  Diego  de  Chaves. 
In  the  mean  time,  Gil  de  la  Mesa,  a  relative  of 
Perez,  had  gone  to  Saragoza  to  claim  for  that  indi 
vidual  the  benefit  of  the  privilege  of  the  Manifesto* 
cion,  which  constituted  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
franchises  possessed  by  Aragon.  What  was  called 


170  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

Manifestation  was  the  act  by  which  the  accused, 
the  prosecuted,  or  the  aggrieved,  presented  himself 
in  person,  or  through  some  duly  authorized  agent, 
before  the  Chief- Justice,  or  any  of  his  delegates,  to 
solicit  the  protection  of  the  Court.  From  that  mo 
ment,  the  King  lost  all  judicial  authority  over  his 
subject,  was  reduced  to  the  part  of  an  informer,  or 
accuser,  and  was  bound  by  the  decision  of  the 
Chief-Justice,  from  which  there  was  no  appeal.  The 
place  where  the  persons  seeking  the  protection  of 
this  privilege  were  detained  was  called  the  prison 
of  the  Manifestation,  or  of  the  Fueros.  Perez,  being 
transferred  to  Saragoza,  was  put  in  the  prison  of 
the  Manifestation  under  the  tutelary  aegis  of  the 
Supreme  Magistracy  of  the  Kingdom.  He  had  taken 
care,  beforehand,  to  gain  the  sympathies  of  his  com 
patriots.  But  when  he  showed  them  the  marks  of 
the  torture  on  his  limbs  ;  when  he  told  them  that 
such  was  the  arbitrary  and  cruel  treatment  inflicted 
on  a  nobleman  and  one  of  their  fellow-citizens,  in 
defiance  of  the  privileges  to  which  he  was  entitled 
as  his  birthright ;  when  he  told  them  that  he  appeal 
ed  with  confidence  to  those  glorious  laws  of  his  free 
native  country  which  had,  for  centuries,  been  found 
sufficiently  powerful  to  protect  the  weakest  against 
the  strongest,  the  Aragonese,  among  whose  national 
traits  of  character  that  of  being  disposed  to  side  with 
the  oppressed  and  to  bridle  the  royal  authority  had 
been  conspicuous  in  all  ages,  exhibited  the  most 
intense  interest  in  his  favor. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  171 

The  King,  in  conformity  with  the  customs,  laws 
and  usages  of  Aragon,  appeared  by  proxy  before  the 
Chief-Justice,  and  accused  Perez  of  the  death  of 
Escovedo,  of  having  falsified  ciphered  dispatches, 
of  having  revealed  State  secrets,  and  of  having 
criminally  fled  from  the  prison  where  he  was  legally 
detained  by  virtue  of  the  Eoyal  authority.  The 
Marquis  of  Almenara,  who  had  been  sent  by  Philip 
to  Saragoza  on  a  special  mission,  to  obtain  from  the 
Aragonese  that  they  should  renounce  the  privilege 
which  they  possessed  of  having  for  their  Yiceroy  no 
other  than  a  native  of  that  Kingdom,  was  instructed 
besides,  to  press  the  trial  of  Perez  with  the  most 
earnest  diligence.  In  the  meanwhile,  the  lingering 
criminal  prosecution  so  long  pending  in  Madrid  was 
now  pushed  on  with  vigor,  as  if  Perez  had  been  pres 
ent,  and  embraced  additional  charges,  among  which 
was  that  of  his  having  poisoned  Pedro  de  la  Hera 
and  Eodrigo  Margado.  His  scandalous  amours  with 
the  Princess  of  Eboli,  which  do  not  seem,  however, 
to  have  constituted  any  offence  punishable  by  law, 
became  also  the  subject  of  the  most  searching  ex 
amination,  and  copies  of  all  the  proceedings  and  tes 
timonies  were  sent  duly  sealed  and  certified  to  the 
Marquis  of  Almenara  in  Saragoza.  At  last,  on  the 
10th  of  June,  1590,  the  Court  sitting  in  Madrid 
found  Perez  guilty,  sentenced  him  to  death,  and  to 
be  paraded,  before  his  execution,  through  the  streets, 
according  to  the  established  usage.  His  head  was 
to  be  cut  off,  and  hung  up  conspicuously  in  some 


172  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

public  place.  His  whole  property  was  confiscated 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Crown,  after  deducting  from  it 
what  might  be  found  necessary  to  pay  the  costs  of 
the  trial.  But  this  judgment  could  not  be  executed 
against  the  person  of  Perez  in  Aragon,  and  was  to 
remain  a  mere  Irutum  fulmen,  unless  sanctioned  and 
enforced  by  the  authorities  of  that  Kingdom. 

But  whilst  Perez  had  been  doomed  to  the  scaffold 
in  Madrid,  he  had  been  writing  from  his  prison  in 
Saragoza  several  letters  to  the  King.  At  first,  his 
tone  was  humble  and  bland,  but  it  soon  became  reso 
lute  and  threatening.  He  begged  Philip  not  to 
compel  him  to  make  certain  disclosures  which  might 
damage  the  reputation  of  persons  of  much  conse 
quence,  and  might  even  affect  the  honor  of  his  Maj 
esty,  because,  although  it  was  believed  that  he  had 
parted  with  all  his  papers,  he  still  had  retained 
some  which  might  be  sufficient  for  his  discharge- 
Not  satisfied  with  this,  he  sent  to  Court  Father 
Gotor,  to  whom  he  had  confidentially  shown  certain 
original  notes  from  Philip,  commanding  him  to  put 
Escovedo  to  death.  The  priest  was  instructed  to 
give  the  King  to  understand  verbally,  that  it  would 
be  decorous  for  the  Crown  to  stop  all  prosecution 
against  Perez  and  to  restore  him  at  once  to  liberty. 
Seeing,  however,  that  the  King  answered  not  his 
letters  as  he  had  hoped,  but,  on  the  contrary,  was 
doing  the  very  reverse  of  what  he  prayed  for  ;  that 
the  Judges  in  Madrid  had  condemned  him  to  capital 
punishment ;  that  in  Aragon  his  trial  was  continued, 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  173 

and  that  his  imprisonment  had  been  made  more 
rigorous  at  the  request  of  the  agents  of  the  King,  he 
re;  solved  to  justify  himself  before  the  Judges  of  that 
Kingdom,  by  presenting  to  them  a  memorial  which 
contained  copies  of  the  original  notes  from  the  King 
in  relation  to  Escovedo's  death  and  other  matters, 
and  also  copies  of  the  letters  of  the  Confessor  Don 
Diego  de  Chaves,  to  which  we  have  already  referred. 
By  these  documents  Perez  proved  that,  if  he  had 
altered  the  sense  of  dispatches  in  ciphers,  it  was 
by  the  authority  of  the  King  and  of  those  very  person 
ages  from  whom  they  came,  and  also  that  he  had 
caused  Escovedo  to  be  killed  in  conformity  with  the 
Eoyal  pleasure. 

The  boldness  with  which  Perez  made  these  reve 
lations,  and  his  avowed  determination  to  divulge 
other  mysteries,  alarmed  Philip  to  such  a  degree 
that  he  solemnly  desisted  from  the  criminal  prose 
cution  which  he  had  begun  in  his  name  before  the 
Supreme  Court  of  Aragon.  The  reasons  which  he 
gave  for  taking  such  a  step  are  consigned  in  a  docu 
ment  under  his  Eoyal  seal,  which  purported  to  be 
issued  "  in  the  name  of  God,"  and  which  he  ordered 
to  be  filed  in  Court,  "  to  make  those  reasons  known 
to  all ;"  and  it  is  not  the  least  extraordinary  feature 
in  this  extraordinary  affair,  that  he  should  have 
made  the  confessions  which  are  thus  on  record.  "  It 
would  not  have  been  difficult  for  us,"  said  the  King, 
11  to  have  convicted  Perez  of  all  the  accusations 
brought  against  him,  and  to  have  obtained  his  being 


174  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

punished  for  his  crimes.  It  is  because  it  was  our 
intention  to  have  proved  his  guilt  to  the  satisfaction 
of  all,  that  he  was  prosecuted  in  the  usual  way,  in 
conformity  with  all  the  dilatory  formalities  of  the 
law.  But  Antonio  Perez,  taking  advantage  of  this 
our  Eoyal  disposition,  and  fearing  the  result  of  the 
proceedings  against  him,  defends  himself  in  such  a 
manner  that,  in  order  to  meet  him  on  the  ground 
where  he  has  placed  himself,  it  would  be  necessary 
to  treat  of  affairs  more  grave  than  usually  come 
within  the  province  of  judicial  investigations,  to 
divulge  secrets  which  it  would  not  be  proper  to  make 
public,  and  to  bring  forward  persons  whose  reputa 
tion  and  dignity  it  is  more  important  to  preserve 
than  to  secure  the  condemnation  of  said  Perez.  For 
these  considerations,  I  have  deemed  it  less  incon 
venient  to  cease  to  prosecute  the  accused  before  the 
High  Court  of  Aragon."  The  King,  however,  took 
that  occasion  to  asseverate  "that  the  delinquencies 
of  Perez  were  so  heinous,  not  only  in  their  nature, 
but  also  on  account  of  the  time  and  manner  of  their 
perpetration  and  of  other  circumstances,  that  no 
vassal  had  ever  been  guilty  of  the  like  toward  his 
King  and  Liege  Lord.  Wherefore  he  had  desired 
it  to  be  recorded,  in  order  that  it  should  never  be 
forgotten,  and,  in  so  doing,  he  only  complied  with  his 
obligations  as  King."  Philip  declared  moreover  in 
that  document,  "  that  he  wished  it  to  be  distinctly 
understood  that  he  made  a  special  reservation  of  all 
the  rights  which  he  possessed  as  King  of  Aragon, 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  175 

and  as  King  of  Castile,  jointly  and  severally,  to  pros 
ecute  Antonio  Perez,  when  he  chose,  either  crimin 
ally  or  civilly,  by  way  of  accusation,  or  in  any  other 
form  as  he  might  please,  for  any  of  the  delinquencies 
which  that  individual  had  committed,  as  a  servant 
against  his  master,  as  a  Minister  against  his  Sov 
ereign,  and  as  a  vassal  against  his  Liege  Lord.'7 
Thus  we  see  Philip,  notwithstanding  his  implacable 
temper,  sacrificing  what  must  have  been  his  intense 
desire  to  punish  one  "who  had  done  him  such 
wrongs  as  no  subject  had  ever  been  guilty  of  against 
his  Prince,"  to  the  fear  of  the  revelation  of  certain 
secrets.  How  terrible  and  infamous  must  they  have 
been !  It  is  inexplicable  that  a  man  so  cautious  as 
Philip  should  have  driven  the  possessor  of  such 
secrets  to  such  an  extremity  of  despair,  as  to  compel 
him  to  make  known  to  the  world  that  there  existed 
such  a  partnership  of  dark  criminality  between  the 
Monarch  and  the  fallen  Minister.  It  is  probable 
that  he  would  have  long  before  dealt  with  Perez  in 
a  more  summary  way,  and  secured  his  silence  by 
those  occult  means  which  he  never  scrupled  to  use, 
if  he  had  not  apprehended,  or  been  informed  that, 
in  such  a  case,  there  would  be  found  an  avenger,  in 
whose  hands  the  proofs  of  those  secrets  had  been 
safely  placed. 

But  the  King,  notwithstanding  the  relinquishment 
of  his  complaints  before  the  Supreme  Tribunal  of 
Aragon,  had  not  given  up  his  intention  of  destroy 
ing  his  hated  subject.  He  had  found  the  path  in 


176  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

which  he  had  ventured  to  be  perilous,  and  he  re 
solved  to  take  some  other  one  which  might  lead  him 
more  safely  to  the  gratification  of  his  vengeance. 
One  of  the  expedients  to  which  he  resorted  was  to 
charge  Perez,  after  having  dropped  all  oiher  accu 
sations  against  him,  with  having  poisoned  Pedro 
de  la  Hera  and  Rodriguez  Margado.  The  other  was 
to  call  in  Aragon  for  a  court  of  inquest  (enyuesta), 
which  was  equivalent  to  that  of  Visita  or  JKesiden- 
cia  in  Castile,  whose  special  jurisdiction  was  to  ex 
amine  the  manner  in  which  public  officers  had  per 
formed  their  functions.  Perez  argued  with  great 
force  that,  having  never  filled  any  office  in  Aragon, 
he  could  not  be  subject  to  any  Court  of  Inquest  in 
that  Kingdom.  He  also  defended  himself  with  much 
ability  against  the  accusation  of  his  having  adminis 
tered  poison  to  La  Hera  and  to  Margado.  And  well 
did  he  need  all  his  consummate  skill  and  the  assist 
ance  of  all  his  friends  to  cope  with  the  tremendous 
influence  which  the  King  brought  to  bear  against 
him  ;  for  the  agents  of  Philip  were  innumerable  ; 
they  were  indefatigable,  and  some  of  them  were  of 
the  highest  rank.  Threats,  promises,  blandishments 
were  used  unsparingly  ;  even  the  seductions  of  gold 
were  not  left  untried.  The  main  object  was  not  to 
have  Perez  condemned  to  death,  because  it  was 
doubtful  whether  such  a  sentence  could  be  obtained 
and  executed  in  Aragon,  but  to  get  him  out  of  that 
Kingdom  and  bring  him  back  to  Castile.  Therefore 
his  enemies  were  content  with  soliciting  a  mere  de- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  177 

cree  of  banishment  from  Aragon,  well  knowing  that 
he  would  then  fall  infallibly  into  the  hands  of  the 
King. 

The  Junta  or  Council  of  Madrid,  in  a  deliberation 
of  the  20th  of  September,  1590,  resolved  on  advising 
the  King  to  have  Perez  dispatched  in  any  manner 
that  should  be  effective  ;  "because,"  as  they  said  to 
their  royal  master,  "  there  is  no  reason  to  scruple 
about  the  choice  of  the  means  to  execute  the  sen 
tence  pronounced  against  him,  if  it  cannot  be  done 
in  the  ordinary  way.  If  it  is  lawful  for  any  indi 
vidual  to  kill  any  bandit  who  has  been  doomed  to 
capital  punishment  by  a  Court  of  Justice  and  who 
cannot  be  seized  by  its  officers,  it  follows  that  your 
Majesty  has  a  much  more  evident  right  to  order  the 
execution,  in  any  form  which  may  be  deemed  expe 
dient,  of  him  whom  you  have  found  guilty,  and  who 
has  fled  "from  the  application  of  your  sentence. 
Princes,  for  the  good  government  of  their  dominions, 
are  in  the  habit  of  using  strong  and  extraordinary 
remedies,  when  mild  and  ordinary  ones  are  not  suf 
ficient  to  check  crimes,  or  cure  evil  practices.  To 
carry  into  effect  the  intended  execution  of  Perez, 

there  is  no  lack  of  means and,  in  case  it 

should  be  necessary,  those  means  will  have  to  be 
considered.'7  The  logic  of  the  Junta  was  not  unac 
ceptable  to  the  King,  for  he  put  the  following  note 
on  the  margin  of  the  document  which  contained  the 
reasonings  and  conclusions  of  his  advisers  :  "It  will 
be  proper  to  examine  all  that  which  may  be  done  in 

12 


178  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

conformity  to  what  is  here  expressed.  But  in  rela 
tion  to  what  is  said  about  the  means  of  execution  in 
case  they  should  be  required,  it  seems  to  me  that  it 
would  be  better  to  treat  of  them  at  once,  and  to  re 
solve  upon  them  beforehand,  so  as  to  meet  all  the 
exigencies  which  may  happen,  and  have  everything 
prepared,  should  there  be  any  understanding  on  the 
subject,  because  otherwise  the  emergencies  might 
come  when  too  late  to  execute  what  might  be  deter 
mined.1'  Nature  had  not  given  Philip  a  generous 
heart  to  counteract  the  baleful  effects  of  a  bigoted 
mind,  and  when  it  is  seen  in  whose  custody  he  had 
placed  his  religious,  moral  and  political  conscience, 
it  may  not  be  so  difficult  to  understand  how  he  may 
have  deluded  himself  into  the  belief  that  he  was  act 
ing  uprightly,  as  is  maintained  by  those  who  have 
endeavored  to  defend  his  memory,  when  he  was 
committing  acts  of  atrocious  villainy. 

Judgment  was  on  the  eve  of  being  pronounced  in 
Aragon  by  the  Court  of  Inquest  in  relation  to  the 
manner  in  which  Perez  had  discharged  his  functions 
as  Minister  of  State,  and  also  by  the  other  tribunal 
to  which  the  accusation  against  him  for  poisoning  La 
Hera  and  Margado  had  been  referred,  when  the  ac 
cused  was,  by  a  new  expedient,  withdrawn  from 
their  jurisdiction.  This  was  due  to  a  sudden  inspi 
ration  of  the  Marquis  of  Almenara,  which  seemed 
excellent  to  Philip,  and  which  consisted  in  a  device 
to  surrender  Perez  to  the  Inquisition.  That  active 
agent  of  the  King  suggested  to  him  that  Perez, 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN".  1*79 

being  claimed  by  that  terrible  tribunal,  could  not 
invoke  against  it  the  protection  of  the  laws  of  Ara- 
gon,  and  that  he  would  be  taken  out  of  the  prison 
of  the  Manifestation  to  be  carried  to  the  dungeons 
of  the  Holy  Office,  where  the  royal  resentment 
would  reach  him  with  ease,  secrecy  and  security. 
But  what  could  be  the  charges  on  which  to  proceed 
against  him  before  the  Inquisition  ?  They  were  dif 
ficult  to  be  found,  and  yet  it  will  be  seen  what 
slight  pretext  was  sufficient  to  make  a  man  amena 
ble  to  the  dreaded  jurisdiction  of  that  tribunal. 
Perez  had  fled  from  Castile  with  his  Secretary,  who 
was  a  Genoese  named  Juan  Francisco  Mayorini,  and 
who  became  the  companion  of  his  captivity  in  Ara- 
gon.  Although  surrounded  with  so  many  friends  in 
that  Kingdom,  and  shielded  by  its  fueros,  or  privi 
leges  and  immunities,  both,  being  alarmed  for  their 
safety,  determined  again  to  take  refuge  elsewhere, 
and  resolved  to  repair  to  the  small  Principality 
of  Bearne,  between  the  Kingdom  of  Navarre  and 
that  of  France.  That  was  enough.  On  their  plan  be 
ing  discovered,  they  were  accused  of  heresy,  merely 
because  they  had  intended  to  go  to  a  country  full  of 
heretics.  Besides,  there  were  witnesses  who  swore 
that  they  had  heard  Perez  and  Mayorini  utter  cer 
tain  phrases,  or  exclamations,  which  it  is  not  unu 
sual  for  men  to  use  in  fits  of  anger,  impatience,  or 
despair,  and  which  really  mean  nothing,  but  which 
might  sound  like  blasphemies,  if  taken  literally. 
These  were  certainly  slim  and  narrow  grounds,  but 


180  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

they  afforded  space  enough  for  the  goat -like  foot  of 
the  Inquisition  to  stand  upon,  and  to  reach  its  in 
tended  victims.  Among  other  inconsiderate  things, 
Perez  had  said,  on  his  being  accused  by  the  King  of 
having  deciphered  dispatches  falsely  and  revealed 
secrets  of  State,  that  "he  had  proceeded  to  justify 
himself  without  being  deterred  by  considerations  for 
the  honor  of  anybody,  and  that  he  would  slit  the 
nose  of  God  the  Father  Himself,  if  He  should  at 
tempt  to  prevent  him  (Perez)  from  showing  in  what 
a  perverse  and  ungentlemanly  manner  he  had  been 
treated  by  the  King."  Such  expressions,  with  others, 
more  or  less  irreverential,  were  submitted  to  Philip's 
confessor,  Don  Diego  de  Chaves,  who  was  also  a 
commissary  of  the  Holy  Office,  and  he  pronounced 
them  to  be  scandalous,  offensive  to  pious  ears,  and 
smelling  of  heresy.  In  consequence  of  this  declara 
tion  of  one  of  its  officers,  the  Supreme  Tribunal  of 
the  Inquisition  ordered  its  subordinate  one  in  Sara- 
goza  to  immure  Antonio  Perez  and  Mayorini  in 
one  of  its  secret  prisons.  On  receiving  this  man 
date,  the  Inquisitors  of  Saragoza  issued  a  decree  by 
which  they  revoked  and  annulled  all  the  privileges 
of  the  Manifestation,  so  far  as  they  impeded  the 
free  exercise  of  their  authority.  They  demanded  of 
the  Justicia  or  Chief-Justice/  and  of  his  delegates, 
the  surrender  of  the  bodies  of  Perez  and  Mayorini, 
under  the  penalty,  in  case  of  a  refusal,  of  excommu 
nication  in  the  first  degree,  and  they  threatened  to 
subject  to  their  judicial  proceedings  whomsoever 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  181 

should  dare  to  oppose  the  execution  of  their  requisi 
tion.  The  Justicia  Mayor  or  Chief- Justice,  Don 
Juan  de  Lanuza,  had  been  spoken  to  and  gained  by 
the  Marquis  of  Almenara,  and  he  was  in  the  Council- 
Boom  with  the  five  subordinate  dignitaries  who  con 
stituted  his  Court,  when  the  Secretary  of  the  Inquisi 
tion  presented  himself.  The  order  was  immediately 
given  to  deliver  to  him  Perez  and  Mayorini,  and  he 
had  them  transported  at  night,  in  a  close  carriage, 
to  the  prison  of  the  Holy  Office. 

But  notwithstanding  the  secrecy  with  which  the 
transfer  of  the  prisoners  had  taken  place,  the  news  of  it 
spread  instantaneously  among  the  people,  who  rush 
ed  tumultuously  into  the  streets,  shouting  :  "  Breach 
of  privilege  !  Breach  of  privilege  !  Long  live  our  lib 
erties  !"  And  the  same  excitement  diffused  itself  like 
an  electric  fluid  through  the  whole  of  Aragon.  Perez, 
who  had  for  many  years  foreseen  that  it  would  be  the 
best  shelter  he  might  have  against  the  storm  with 
which  he  saw  himself  threatened,  had  neglected  no 
means  to  secure  powerful  friends  among  the  mag 
nates  of  that  Kingdom  and  to  gain  the  favor  of  the 
middle  classes  and  of  the  populace,  and  had  met 
with  complete  success.  But  the  interest  which  he 
excited  was  not  merely  personal,  although  they  con 
sidered  that,  if  not  innocent,  yet  he  was  hunted 
down  rather  with  the  fierceness  of  blind  hatred, 
than  fairly  put  on  his  trial  with  that  impartiality 
which  justice  requires.  Granting  even  the  commis 
sion  of  all  the  crimes  with  which  he  was  charged, 


182  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

some  of  them  at  least  were  attended  with  attenuating 
circumstances  in  the  opinion  of  the  multitude.     Be 
sides,  he  was  the  victim  of  royal  persecution,  his 
body  bore  the  marks  of  the  rack,  and  he  had  been 
eleven  years  in  prison  !    They  forgot  the  delinquen 
cies    of   the  once  omnipotent    Minister,   and,    with 
characteristic  generosity,  remembered  only  the  suf 
ferings  of  the  wretched  fugitive,  who  was  stripped  of 
all  his  wealth  and  honors,  and  who  begged  but  for 
life.     The  popular  feeling,  therefore,  ran  high    in 
favor  of  Perez,  for  he  had  had  the  address  to  con 
nect  his  cause  with  that  of  the  maintenance  of  those 
privileges  and  liberties  of  which  the  Aragonese  were 
so  proud,  and  from  that  moment  the  personal  inter 
est  which  he  had  inspired  had  merged  into  a  national 
one.     To  save  Perez,  or  to  save  the  Fueros,  or  fran 
chises  of  the  Kingdom,  became  a  synonymous  idea 
in  the  mind  of  the  people.     Hence  the  sudden  rising 
of  an  infuriated  mob  and  the  deafening  cries  of  "  Our 
liberties,  or  death  !"  A  column  of  the  rioters  march 
ed  in  the  direction  of  the  palace  of  the  Marquis  of 
Almenara,  one  of  the  most  active  agents  of  Philip, 
and  to  whom  they  attributed  chiefly  the  violation  of 
their   privileges.     The  Marquis,  on  his  arrival  in 
Saragoza,  had  displayed  an  ostentatious  mode  of  liv 
ing  to  which  the  inhabitants  of  that  city  were  not 
accustomed.     It  certainly  was  not  in  harmony  with 
the  simplicity   of    their    tastes,   the    frugality   of 
their  habits,  and  the  austerity  of  their  disposition. 
They  had  been  highly  disgusted  with  the  object  of 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  183 

his  mission,  and  their  pride  had  been  shocked  by 
what  they  thought  an  arrogant  manifestation  of 
superiority  of  rank  and  wealth.  The  aversion 
which  the  Marquis  had  inspired  was  such,  that  it 
was  impossible  to  be  his  friend,  or  even  to  associate 
with  him,  without  being  looked  upon  as  a  public 
enemy.  Such  being  the  sentiments  entertained  for 
him,  it  was  evident  that  his  danger  had  become  im 
minent.  Therefore,  on  receiving  notice  of  the  com 
motion  in  the  city,  he  had  barricaded  himself  in  his 
palace,  which,  with  the  aid  of  his  numerous  house 
hold,  he  prepared  bravely  to  defend,  for  he  was  a 
man  of  resolution.  The  Justicia,  or  Chief-Justice, 
with  his  subordinates,  and  his  two  sons,  Don  Juan 
and  Don  Pedro  de  Lanuza,  had  hastened  to  his 
assistance,  and  were  endeavoring  to  save  his  life  by 
assuring  the  people  that  they  had  come  to  arrest 
him.  They  told  the  most  furious  of  the  rioters  that 
it  was  their  duty  to  retire  and  to  leave  the  object  of 
their  hatred  in  the  hands  of  the  regularly  constitut 
ed  authorities,  in  whom  they  were  bound  to  have 
confidence.  This,  however,  did  not  satisfy  them, 
and  they  battered  down  the  doors  of  the  palace  with 
a  beam  which  they  used  like  a  ram.  They  found  Al- 
menara  in  the  midst  of  a  group  composed  of  the 
Chief-Justice  and  other  public  officers,  who  had 
made  a  rampart  of  their  bodies  to  protect  him.  This 
sight  checked  the  populace,  who  permitted  the  Mar 
quis  and  his  escort  to  come  out,  and  to  proceed  in 
the  direction  of  the  place  where  he  was  to  be  incar- 


184  PHILIP   II.   OF   SPAIN. 

cerated.  But  in  the  streets  the  crowd  thronged 
around  them,  and  seemed  to  labor  under  increasing 
excitement.  The  shouts  were  deafening,  and  the 
imprecations  and  gesticulations  became  more  alarm 
ing,  as  the  Marquis  and  his  guards  advanced  toward 
a  public  square  near  which  they  were  to  pass  and 
which  was  full  of  people.  It  became  almost  impos 
sible  to  push  them  back,  and  they  pressed  so  hard 
and  so  close  on  the  small  band  that  was  conveying 
Almenara  to  a  place  of  safety,  that  the  Chief- Justice, 
who  was  old  and  infirm,  fell  down  and  was  so  much 
bruised  that  he  had  to  retire.  The  enemies  of  the 
Marquis  availed  themselves  of  this  circumstance, 
and,  no  longer  satisfied  with  applying  to  him  the 
most  opprobrious  epithets,  they  inflicted  serious 
blows  on  his  person,  and  several  times  struck  him 
in  the  face  with  their  daggers.  Faint,  dizzy,  and 
covered  with  blood,  he  reached  at  last  his  destined 
prison,  but  died  fifteen  days  afterward  from  a  fever 
caused,  it  is  said,  more  by  his  mortification  at  the 
insults  which  he  had  received  than  by  the  gravity 
of  his  wounds. 

Whilst  some  of  the  rioters  had  been  invading  the 
palace  of  Almenara,  others  had  gone  to  the  Tribunal 
and  prison  of  the  Inquisition,  and  had  boldly  demand 
ed  that  the  two  prisoners  be  remanded  to  the  prison 
of  the  Manifestation,  from  which  they  had  been  re 
moved.  As  the  Inquisitors  did  not  seem  disposed 
to  yield,  the  vociferations  of  the  rioters  showed  that 
their  fury  was  thoroughly  aroused,  and  voices  were 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  185 

heard  crying:  "  If  you  do  not  surrender  the  prison 
ers,  we  will  burn  you  as  you  burn  others."  The 
Inquisitors  were  still  deliberating  on  what  they  had 
to  do,  when  they  received  a  note  from  the  Arch 
bishop,  advising  them  to  grant  what  was  desired,  as  it 
was  the  only  way  to  put  an  end  to  the  popular 
tumult  The  Bishop  of  Teruel,  who  was  Viceroy 
of  Aragon,  many  magistrates,  many  members  of  the 
Clergy,  and  several  magnates,  such  as  the  Counts 
of  Ararida  and  Morata,  presented  themselves  suc 
cessively  before  the  Inquisitors,  and  urged  them  to 
comply  with  the  request  of  the  multitude,  if  they 
did  not  want  to  give  occasion  to  worse  excesses  than 
what  had  already  happened  at  the  palace  of  the 
Marquis  of  Almenara.  After  much  hesitation,  the 
majority  of  the  Inquisitors  became  inclined  to  follow 
this  prudent  advice  ;  but  one  of  them,  Father  Molina 
de  Medrano,  vehemently  protested  against  it,  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  better  for  them  to  be  buried  un 
der  the  ruins  of  the  building  which  they  occupied, 
than  to  gratify  the  rebellious  rabble.  This,  however, 
did  not  seem  to  be  to  the  taste  of  his  colleagues.  At 
last,  after  having  received  a  second  and  a  third  note 
from  the  Archbishop,  pressing  them  not  to  persist  in 
their  refusal,  they  consented  to  give  up  their  prison 
ers,  reserving  to  themselves  the  right  of  considering 
Perez  and  Mayorini,  when  in  the  prison  of  the  Man 
ifestation,  as  being  there  in  the  name  and  by  the 
authority  of  the  Holy  Office.  The  rioters  either  did 
not  hear  of  this  reservation,  or  probably  cared  very 


186  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

little  for  it,  as  it  was,  after  all,  but  a  senseless  fiction, 
with  which  it  was  unnecessary  to  quarrel.  The  im 
portant  point  was  to  gain  possession  of  the  prison 
ers,  and  when  they  were  delivered  to  the  Viceroy 
and  some  of  the  judicial  magistrates  of  the  Kingdom, 
the  people  were  satisfied  with  their  triumph.  They 
surrounded  and  escorted  the  coach  which  contained 
Perez  and  Mayorini,  shouting  with  joyous  enthusi 
asm  :  "  Liberty !  liberty  !  Long  live  our  liberties  !  " 
They  even  recommended  to  Perez  to  show  himself 
three  times  every  day  at  the  grated  window  of  his 
prison,  in  order  that  they  might  be  sure  that  their 
Fueros,  or  privileges,  had  not  been  again  secretly 
violated.  As  soon  as  the  doors  of  the  prison  of  the 
Manifestation  closed  on  Perez  and  his  companion, 
the  mob  quietly  dispersed,  and  their  leaders,  who, 
most  of  them,  were  men  of  distinction,  went  to 
their  respective  homes.  But,  fearful  of  another 
attempt  on  the  part  of  the  Inquisition  to  seize 
again  their  intended  victims,  they  summoned  to  Sar- 
agoza  numerous  bands  of  the  stout  and  hardy 
inhabitants  of  the  neighboring  mountains.  They 
accused  two  of  the  subordinate  officers  of  the  Chief- 
Justice  of  being  partial  to  Almenara,  and  the  Tri 
bunal  de  los  Judicantes,  which  was  composed  of 
seventeen  men  specially  commissioned  to  take  cog 
nizance  of  similar  denunciations,  condemned  the 
accused  to  deprivation  of  office  and  exile.  In  the 
mean  time,  the  people  patrolled  the  streets  at  night 
in  imposing  force,  and  would  occasionally  fire  shots 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  187 

at  such  of  the  employees  of  the  Holy  Office  as  they 
met  accidentally.  Whilst  the  populace  was  thus 
testifying  its  hatred  for  the  Inquisition,  learned  men 
were  rummaging  the  archives  of  the  city  and  studying 
documents  to  show  that  the  Inquisition  had  ceased 
to  exist  legally,  on  account  of  the  infringement  of  those 
conditions  on  which  it  had  been  introduced  in  the 
Kingdom. 

Philip  was  then  engaged  in  a  war  against  France. 
He  probably  thought  that  his  hands  were  full. 
Partly  for  this  reason,  no  doubt,  and  partly  because 
of  his  natural  sluggishness  and  of  his  love  for  tem 
porizing,  he  acted  with  but  little  energy  against 
those  who  had  thus  set  him  at  defiance  in  Saragoza, 
and  seemed  even  to  shrink  in  some  sort  from  the 
necessity  of  inflicting  punishment.  He  wrote  to  the 
principal  cities  of  Aragon  that  it  had  never  been  his 
intention  to  violate  their  franchises,  and  that  his  sole 
object  had  been  to  deliver  to  the  proper  tribunal 
those  who  had  sinned  against  the  true  faith.  He 
contented  himself  with  instructing  the  Inquisitors  to 
publish  the  Bull  of  Pius  Y.  against  all  those  who 
should  oppose  the  free  exercise  of  the  authority  of 
the  Holy  Office,  and  to  take  the  necessary  means  to 
have  Perez  and  Mayorini  replaced  in  their  posses 
sion.  Philip  did  not  indicate  those  means,  and  to 
find  them  was  no  easy  task  for  those  to  whom  he  had 
signified  his  desire.  The  Bull,  however,  was  pub 
lished  as  he  wished,  but  it  was  received  with  very 
little  respect  by  the  Aragonese.  They  assailed  it 


188  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

with  pasquinades  and  insulting  writings  which  they 
posted  up  in  all  the  public  places,  and  with  satirical 
songs  which  were  attributed  to  Perez.  Every  day 
gave  birth  to  similar  productions,  in  which  the  wit 
of  the  natives  was  taxed  to  express  their  detestation. 
The  Inquisitors  were  intimidated,  and  did  not  dare 
to  act  as  they  were  recommended.  The  same  Molina 
de  Medrano  who,  on  the  day  of  the  riot,  had  been 
disposed  to  bury  himself  under  the  ruins  of  the  house 
of  the  Holy  Office,  rather  than  yield  to  the  populace, 
and  who  was  the  most  harsh  and  inexorable  of  all 
the  members  of  that  implacable  tribunal,  allowed  his 
courage  to  ooze  away  and  asked  permission  to  leave 
Aragon,  because  "  his  life  was  in  constant  peril." 
His  apprehensions  were  not  groundless,  because, 
according  to  the  description  given  by  the  Inquisitors 
themselves  of  the  spirit  which  animated  the  whole 
population,  it  appears  that  the  Clergy  and  even  the 
Nuns  were  so  excited  that  they  talked  of  nothing 
else  but  resistance,  and  vowed  that  there  was  no 
danger  which  they  would  not  brave  in  support  of  the 
liberties  of  the  Kingdom.  The  people  were  unani 
mous  in  swearing  that  they  would  sooner  lose  their, 
lives  than  permit  Perez  to  be  taken  away.  There 
fore  the  Inquisitors  informed  the  Government  that 
there  would  be  another  riot,  should  they  attempt  to 
exercise  their  authority,  as  the  public  mind  was  so 
prejudiced  that  "  it  seemed  to  be  bewitched." 

In  the  mean  time,  investigations  were  going  on  in 
Madrid  in  relation  to  the  recent  occurrences  in  Sara- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  189 

goza,  testimonies  were  taken  down,  written  state 
ments  recorded,  and  anew  Junta,  or  Council,  created 
to  take  cognizance  of  the  affair  of  Antonio  Perez. 
The  King  consulted  this  Junta  on  what  he  had  to 
do,  and,  not  satisfied  with  this  step,  for  never  was  a 
man  more  addicted  to  fortifying  himself  with  advice, 
took  the  opinion  of  thirteen  learned  men  in  Sara- 
goza,  who  met  in  a  body  to  deliberate  on  the  subject 
submitted  to  their  consideration,  and  whose  Jesuit 
ical  conclusions  were  well  suited  to  the  atmosphere 
of  the  Court  of  Philip,  if  repugnant  to  morality  and 
to  the  logic  of  common  sense.  They  declared  that 
the  privilege  of  the  Manifestation  could  not  be  an 
nulled,  but  that  it  could  be  suspended  ;  and  having 
discovered  this  curious  way  of  solving  the  difficulty 
by  maintaining  theoretically  the  franchises  which 
were  so  dear  to  the  Aragonese,  whilst  destroying  them 
practically  by  justifying  the  King  in  acting  as  if 
they  did  not  exist,  in  consequence  of  their  tem 
porary  suspension,  these  sage  and  conscientious 
advisers  of  royalty  concluded  that  the  Inquisitors 
could  claim  Perez  and  transport  him  to  their  prison, 
on  condition  of  remanding  again  their  prisoner  to 
the  place  of  confinement  from  which  he  had  been 
taken,  if  they  did  not  think  proper  to  release  him. 
Ridiculous  as  this  may  appear,  it  was  probably 
thought  to  be  a  middle  term,  ingeniously  contrived, 
on  which  the  contending  parties  might  meet  and  be 
reconciled,  but  it  had  the  fate  of  all  such  contempt 
ible  devices,  and  failed  entirely  in  obtaining  its  ob- 


190  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

ject.  Unfortunately,  the  singular  interpretation 
given  by  these  learned  men  to  the  charter  which 
secured  the  franchises  of  Aragon,  this  manifestation 
of  weakness  and  subserviency  on  their  part,  greatly 
encouraged  Philip,  who  knew  well  how  to  avail  him 
self  of  these  favorable  circumstances.  From  the 
Escorial  where  he  was  ensconced,  he,  with  that  in 
defatigable  pen  which  he  was  so  fond  of  wielding, 
wrote  to  the  Viceroy  of  Aragon,  to  its  Magistrates, 
Magnates,  and  other  distinguished  personages,  mak 
ing  a  personal  appeal  to  their  fidelity,  ordering  them 
to  dismiss  from  Saragoza  the  turbulent  mountaineers 
who  had  been  called  to  that  city,  and  giving  them 
other  directions  for  the  re-establishment  of  the  Royal 
authority.  Most  of  the  Nobles  gave  their  adhesion 
to  the  King  ;  the  Justicia  and  other  Magistrates 
began  to  waver  ;  the  Count  of  Aranda  and  the  Duke 
of  Yillahermosa,  who  had  been  the  most  conspicuous 
among  those  of  their  Order  to  side  with  the  people, 
hesitated,  and  showed  signs  which  indicated  that  they 
were  disposed  to  go  no  farther.  The  Inquisitors, 
whose  zeal  and  courage  were  revived  by  the  support 
which  they  felt  to  be  at  hand,  and  by  the  symptoms 
of  irresolution  which  they  observed  in  their  oppo 
nents,  ventured  to  issue,  on  the  17th  of  August,  a 
new  mandate  for  the  transfer  of  the  prisoners  to  the 
dungeons  of  the  Holy  Office. 

As  soon  as  the  determination  of  the  Inquisition 
to  retake  possession  of  Perez  and  Mayorini  was  made 
known,  the  people  began  to  move  like  an  angry  sea 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  191 

under  the  first  blast  of  the  tempest.  There  could  al 
ready  be  discerned  that  long  and  heavy  swell  which 
announces  the  strength  of  the  perturbing  power. 
There  were  heard  in  the  distance  the  deep-toned 
mutterings  of  the  coming  storm.  It  was  evident  that 
the  people  were  preparing  for  another  outbreak. 
The  most  energetic  and  influential  of  the  Nobles 
were  either  openly  or  secretly  at  their  head,  and 
those  by  whom  they  had  been  abandoned  had  never 
possessed  much  of  their  confidence.  Antonio  Perez, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  not  inactive  in  his  prison, 
and,  despite  his  jailers,  or  perhaps  with  their  con 
nivance,  found  the  means  of  scattering  abroad  spirit 
ed  writings,  which  contributed  to  inflame  the  public 
mind.  At  night,  numerous  bands  of  armed  men, 
in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  perambulated  the 
streets,  and  occasionally  fired  at  the  patrols,  which 
the  magistrates  of  the  city  headed  in  person.  In 
these  skirmishes  several  individuals  were  killed  and 
wounded,  and  the  advantage  remained  with  the 
populace.  The  danger  was  so  apparent  that  neither 
the  Viceroy  nor  any  other  authority  would  venture 
to  execute  the  mandate  of  the  Inquisition,  although 
a  certain  number  of  troops  had  been  collected  for 
that  purpose.  Nevertheless,  Perez  became  appre 
hensive  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  that  Tribunal, 
and  resolved  on  a  speedy  flight.  Already  had  he 
sawed  asunder  the  iron  bars  of  the  window  of  his 
prison  with  a  pair  of  scissors  which  he  had  converted 
into  files,  when  he  was  denounced  by  a  Jesuit  to 


192  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

whom  he  had  opened  himself.  In  consequence  of 
this  discovery  he  was  removed  to  a  safer  room,  and 
precluded  from  having  any  intercourse  with  anybody. 
At  last  the  Inquisitors,  with  that  tenacity  of  pur 
pose  which  characterized  their  institution,  after 
having  come  to  a  satisfactory  understanding  with  the 
Justicia  and  his  Lieutenants,  resolved,  cost  what  it 
might,  to  obtain,  a  second  time,  the  delivery  of  the 
prisoners  into  their  sacred  hands.  The  24th  of  Sep 
tember  was  chosen  for  it — a  fatal  day  for  Saragoza 
—a  day  which  is  forever  to  be  gloomily  remembered 
in  the  annals  of  Aragon,  and  which  had  deplorable 
consequences  for  the  whole  of  Spain.  On  that  day 
the  officials  of  the  Inquisition,  accompanied  by  the 
Viceroy  and  some  of  the  high  dignitaries  of  the  city 
and  of  the  Kingdom,  by  a  crowd  of  noblemen  fol 
lowed  by  some  of  their  vassals,  and  by  six  hundred 
arquebusiers,  marched  in  great  pomp  and  in  military 
array  to  the  prison  of  the  Manifestation,  to  execute 
the  mandate  of  the  Inquisition.  But  the  popular 
wrath,  at  such  a  spectacle,  exploded  like  a  mass  of 
ignited  gunpowder.  The  Yiceroy  and  other  author 
ities  had  to  take  refuge  in  houses,  which  were  at 
tacked,  set  on  fire,  and  from  which  they  escaped 
through  the  roofs.  The  officials  of  the  Inquisition 
were  indebted  for  their  safety  to  the  same  agility, 
and  the  doors  of  the  prison  being  battered  down, 
Antonio  Perez  and  Mayorini  were  rescued  by  their 
friends,  and,  taking  to  horse,  fled  rapidly  out  of  the 
city  through  the  gate  of  Santa  Engracia.  The  Sec- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  193 

retary  of  the  Inquisition,  who  was  an  eye-witness, 
and  who  relates  all  the  details  of  this  riot,  says  :  "  I 
certify  that  the  soldiers  and  the  nobles  made  so  little 
resistance  that  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  they  did  not 
intend  any,  and  even  some  of  them  went  over  to  the 
other  side."  At  five  of  the  afternoon  the  people,  hav 
ing  overcome  all  obstacles,  being  in  complete  posses 
sion  of  the  city,  and  tired  of  shouting  "  Long  live  our 
liberties  !  Long  live  our  privileges !"  retired  to  rest 
like  a  lion,  who,  exhausted  by  the  fury  into  which 
he  had  lashed  himself,  and  no  longer  seeing  anything 
on  which  to  vent  it,  utters  a  last  growl,  folds  his 
paws  under  his  shaggy  breast,  and  composes  himself 
to  sleep,  with  the  satisfaction  of  a  monarch  whose 
sway  remains  undisputed.  The  authorities,  when 
night  came,  being  made  aware  that  the  many-headed 
monster  had  abandoned  the  battle-field  and  with 
drawn  to  its  den,  dispatched  couriers  in  every  direc 
tion  to  arrest  the  fugitive  Perez,  for  whose  capture 
they  offered  a  reward  of  two  thousand  ducats.  But 
their  alarms  at  what  every  moment  might  bring 
forth  were  intense.  The  Yiceroy  wrote  to  the  King 
to  ask  permission  to  remove  with  the  Royal  Au 
dience  to  some  other  place,  on  account  of  the 
little  security  which  they  could  rely  on  in  Saragoza. 
The  several  districts  in  which  the  city  was  divided 
had  demanded,  through  their  Representatives,  that 
its  defence  be  intrusted  to  them,  and  that  the  troops 
be  sent  out  of  its  precincts.  Already  were  the 
authorities  preparing  to  accede  to  their  wishes,  and 

13 


194  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

to  make  a  distribution  of  the  arms  which  were  in  the 
arsenal,  when  there  came  an  order  from  the  King, 
prescribing  to  take  special  care  that  the  people 
should  not  have  access  to  them.  He  was  obeyed. 

The  political  Constitution  of  the  Kingdom  of  Ara- 
gon,  with  its  numerous  franchises,  privileges  and 
immunities,  which  imposed  such  restraints  on  the 
Executive  as  almost  to  annul  it  in  some  cases,  was 
not  compatible  with  the  character  of  such  a  Sov 
ereign  as  Philip,  who  was  so  greedy  of  power  as  to 
regret  to  delegate  the  least  particle  of  it,  and  who 
thought  it  impious  on  the  part  of  subjects  to  attempt 
to  throw  the  lightest  ligament  round  the  neck  of 
royal  authority.  Therefore  the  liberties  of  Aragon 
and  all  the  ideas  of  Philip  in  relation  to  his  divine 
rights  of  sovereignty  were  as  antagonistical  as  day 
and  night.  It  is  even  to  be  wondered  at  that  they 
had  not,  long  before,  come  to  a  collision.  But 
Philip's  attention  and  Philip's  armies,  since  his 
accession  to  the  throne,  had  chiefly  been  engaged 
abroad — in  Africa,  in  America,  in  Turkey,  in  Italy, 
in  the  Low  Countries,  in  England,  in  France,  and  in 
Portugal.  His  eyes,  being  mostly  fixed  on  distant  and 
more  important  objects,  had  not  been  afforded  the 
leisure  to  dwell  on  this  offensive  one  which  lay  nearer 
to  his  person.  Besides,  it  was  not  in  accordance 
with  his  habitual  policy  to  attack  openly  and  in 
front  institutions  which  had  been  for  so  many  cen 
turies  deeply  rooted  in  the  hearts  of  the  Aragonese. 
He  knew  that  their  bravery  was  equal  to  their  pro- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  195 

verbial  stubbornness,  and  he  felt  that  it  would  be 
dangerous  to  provoke  wantonly  a  people  so  warlike 
and  so  free,  dwelling  in  a  rugged  country  where  war 
could  be  prolonged  indefinitely  among  mountain 
fastnesses,  and  which  was  situated  on  the  frontiers 
of  France.  Foreign  assistance  might  be  too  readily 
obtained.  He  was  also  wanting  in  pretexts  to  show 
his  latent  hostility  to  the  Aragonese.  They  had 
always  exhibited  a  great  deal  of  loyalty,  had  served 
him  faithfully  in  peace  and  war  ;  and  with  a  docility 
to  which  they  had  not  accustomed  their  Sovereigns, 
they  had,  notwithstanding  their  independent  spirit 
and  their  economical  habits,  granted  to  Philip  all  the 
ordinary  and  extraordinary  subsidies  which  he  had 
required  of  them,  besides  allowing  him,  on  several 
occasions,  with  spontaneous  generosity,  very  large 
sums  in  the  liberal  shape  of  donations. 

Philip  had,  therefore,  contented  himself  with  un 
dermining  secretly  the  edifice  which  he  had  more 
than  6ne  reason  not  to  assail  with  unconcealed 
weapons.  But  if  he  spared  the  thunderbolt  which, 
in  a  serene  sky,  would  have  been  observed  of  all, 
and  which,  amidst  the  crash  of  shattered  columns 
and  tottering  walls,  might  have  produced  a  confla 
gration  more  extensive  than  he  was  prepared  for, 
he  noiselessly  crept  to  their  foundations  and  laid 
under  them  the  seeds  of  destruction.  He  had,  since 
the  beginning  of  his  reign,  from  time  to  time,  when 
the  occasion  favored  his  designs,  warred  in  detail 
against  the  liberties  of  Aragon.  Some  of  them  he 


196  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

Lad  indirectly  abridged  by  a  sly  extension  of  the 
royal  authority ;  others  he  had  wounded,  crippled, 
or  weakened  by  stealthy  side-blows,  as  if  with  the 
midnight  dagger  of  an  assassin.  There  were  in 
Aragon  franchises  common  to  the  whole  Kingdom, 
and  franchises  which  appertained  only  to  particular 
localities.  These  latter  he  first  operated  against,  in 
order  gradually  to  arrive  at  the  former,  which  were 
of  far  more  importance.  His  plan  was  to  accustom 
the  people  by  degrees  to  these  infractions  of  their 
rights,  and  to  break  one  by  one  those  shafts  which, 
if  united  in  a  bundle,  might  have  resisted  his  efforts. 
He  knew  that  the  successive  destruction  of  the  im 
munities  of  localities,  between  which  there  were  fre 
quently  intense  jealousies,  and  about  which  there 
could  be  felt  no  general  interest,  was  far  more  easy 
to  accomplish  than  the  overthrow  of  any  of  the  fran 
chises  which  were  common  to  the  whole  Kingdom. 
He  went  to  work  accordingly  in  this  matter  with 
diabolical  skill,  whenever  he  could  divert  his  mind 
from  those  machinations  with  which,  far  and  wide, 
he  kept  the  world  in  a  state  of  perturbation.  He 
would,  on  such  occasions,  turn  his  cold  gray  eyes 
toward  Aragon,  and  if  he  saw  in  any  particular  spot 
any  cause  of  discontent,  he  took  care  to  make  it 
worse.  Were  a  magnate  and  his  vassals  quarrel 
ing,  he  widened  the  breach,  until  he  found  the  op 
portunity  to  step  in,  and  it  was  always  to  the  detri 
ment  of  both  parties.  Was  any  community  disposed 
to  turbulence,  his  agents  fanned  it  into  an  actual  out- 


PHILIP   II.    OF    SPAIN.  197 

break,  which  afforded  the  chance  to  strangle  some 
of  its  beloved  immunities.  Were  a  city  and  its  con 
stituted  authorities  on  terms  of  disagreement,  he  so 
manoeuvred  that  anarchy  soon  ensued,  and  he  then 
intervened  to  restore  order  at  the  cost  of  some  of 
their  prerogatives.  Thus  he  had  been  slowly  and 
cautiously  breaking  down  the  spirit  of  the  people 
and  familiarizing  them  with  strokes  of  royal  author 
ity,  without  their  thinking  that  these  encroachments 
were  of  sufficient  importance  to  call  for  a  well- 
organized  and  general  resistance.  In  this  way  some 
of  their  most  valuable  privileges  had  fallen  into 
desuetude,  or  been  emasculated,  and  others  had  been 
suspended,  if  not  absolutely  abolished  ;  when  it  was 
discovered  by  some  of  the  most  patriotic  and  enlight 
ened  minds  of  Aragon  that  it  would  be  fortunate  if 
something  occurred  to  wake  up  the  zeal  of  the  peo 
ple  for  their  antique  liberties  ;  and  the  Sovereign, 
on  the  other  hand,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
favorable  time  had  arrived  to  strike  a  final  blow. 
These  were  the  respective  relations  existing  be 
tween  Philip  and  Aragon,  when  the  desired  oppor 
tunity  for  a  struggle  was  given  by  the  affair  of 
Perez. 


198  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

the  15th  of  October,  thinking  that  the  time  for 
action  was  ripe,  and  having  sufficiently  pondered  on 
the  measures  to  be  taken  in  connection  with  the  events 
which  have  been  related,  Philip  wrote  to  the  authori 
ties  of  Saragoza  that  he  had  determined  to  send  to 
that  city  the  army  which  had  been  assembled  under 
the  command  of  Alonzo  de  Vargas,  to  carry  on  the  war 
existing  between  Spain  and  France.  He  also  announ 
ced  to  them  that  the  object  which  he  had  in  view  was, 
"  to  re-establish  the  respect  due  to  the  Holy  Office  of 
the  Inquisition,  and  secure  the  free  use  and  exercise 
of  their  fueros"  In  another  letter  he  assured  them 
with  more  explicit  precision,  that  "  he  had  no  other 
intention  than  that  of  protecting  their  fueros,  and 
that  he  would  not  permit  them  to  be  violated  by 
anybody."  Notwithstanding  these  royal  declara 
tions,  the  approach  of  the  army  filled  the  Aragonese 
with  consternation.  They  suspected  that  Philip 
meant  the  veiy  reverse  of  what  he  professed  in  rela 
tion  to  their  privileges  and  franchises  ;  for  the  mere 
sending  of  an  army  into  Aragon  without  the  con 
sent  of  the  Cortes  was  thought  to  be  an  infraction 
of  their  Fueros.  Therefore  the  inhabitants  of  Sara- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  199 

goza  resolved  on  resistance.  The  manifestations 
of  the  public  spirit  were  such,  that  the  Yiceroy  sent 
two  emissaries  to  Vargas,  to  request  in  his  name, 
and  in  that  of  the  Kingdom  and  the  city  in  particu 
lar,  that  the  march  of  the  troops  be  stopped  until 
further  orders  from  the  King  ;  and,  at  the  same  time, 
he  dispatched  two  other  emissaries  to  His  Majesty, 
to  supplicate  him  to  defer  for  awhile  the  entering 
of  the  army  into  Aragon  ;  if  that  could  not  be  done, 
he  begged  to  receive  timely  notice  of  it,  so  that  he 
might  retire  for  safety,  with  the  members  of  his 
Council,  into  the  fortress  which  commanded  the  city. 
He  suggested,  moreover,  that,  in  his  opinion,  it 
would  be  expedient  to  convene  the  Cortes  in  Cala- 
tayud,  and  to  delay  their  proceedings  by  proroguing 
them  from  time  to  time  until  some  means  be  found 
to  settle  satisfactorily  the  questions  which  had  dis 
turbed  the  tranquillity  of  the  Kingdom.  In  these 
conjunctures,  its  most  learned  jurisconsults,  having 
been  consulted,  decided  unanimously  that  the  enter 
ing  of  Philip's  army  into  Aragon  would  be  a  breach 
of  privilege,  and  that,  in  such  a  case,  it  would  be  the 
duty  of  the  proper  authorities  to  use  all  the  resour 
ces  of  the  Kingdom  "  to  resist  and  expel  those  intrud 
ing  strangers."  (G-cntes  estrangeras.) 

Philip,  on  his  part,  acted  with  his  usual  slowness 
of  deliberation.  He  did  not  hasten  the  march  of  his 
army  to  anticipate  the  movements  of  his  opponents, 
but  he  sent  the  Marquis  of  Lombay  to  Aragon  with 
minute  instructions  as  to  the  steps  which  he  should 


200  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

take  to  restore  peace  to  the  Kingdom.  It  was  pro 
scribed  to  him  at  full  length  how  he  was  to  deal  with 
the  magnates,  the  universities  and  other  corpora 
tions,  in  order  to  separate  them  from  the  cause  of 
the  people.  He  was  commissioned  to  repeat  that 
the  sole  object  of  the  King  was  to  re-establish  the 
authority  of  the  Inquisition,  and  "  to  secure  the  un 
controlled  exercise  of  the  franchises  of  the  Kingdom," 
although  the  Aragonese  could  not  understand  how 
the  antagonism  of  these  two  hostile  elements  could 
be  reconciled  ;  for  it  seemed  that  the  existence  of  the 
one  excluded  the  other  as  effectually  as  water  extin 
guishes  fire.  In  the  mean  time,  Vargas,  who  was 
slowly  progressing  with  his  army,  gave  also  assur 
ance  to  an  Aragonese  Committee,  who  had  come  to 
remonstrate  against  his  further  advance,  that  he  was 
specially  instructed  by  the  King  "to  preserve  the 
Fueros." 

Informed  of  the  approach  of  the  army,  which  was 
chiefly  composed  of  troops  from  Castile,  the  in 
habitants  of  Saragoza  compelled  the  Justicia  to 
march  a  short  distance  from  the  city  to  meet  the 
coming  foe.  The  J-usticia  was  no  longer  the  old  man, 
Don  Juan  de  Lanuza,  who  had  figured  in  the  first 
disturbances.  He  had  died  since,  and  had  been  suc 
ceeded  in  his  office  by  his  eldest  son,  who  bore  the 
same  name.  This  new  dignitary,  although  j^oung  and 
robust  in  body,  had  a  timid  and  vacillating  mind. 
He  had  with  him  an  undisciplined  force  of  scarcely 
two  thousand  men,  with  whom  he  certainly  could 


PHILIP    II.    OF    SPAIN.  201 

not  hope  to  offer  a  successful  resistance  to  the  veteran 
troops  which  were  approaching.  Catalonia  and  the 
Kingdom  of  Valencia  had  not  responded  to  the  ap 
peal  which  had  been  made  to  them  ;  the  other  cities 
of  Aragon,  with  the  exception  of  barely  half  a  score 
of  them,  had  remained  indifferent,  and  even  these 
had  sent  but  a  scanty  aid.  The  Count  of  Aranda 
and  the  Duke  of  Villahermosa,  who  were  suspected 
of  being  traitors,  took  refuge  in  the  Monastery  of 
Santa  Engracia,  which  was  attacked  by  the  populace 
with  great  fury,  and  it  was  with  considerable  risk 
that  these  nobles  escaped  by  scaling  the  walls  of  the 
garden  of  the  Monastery,  at  a  spot  which  was  not 
sufficiently  guarded  by  the  assailants.  They  fled  to 
the  neighboring  town  of  Epila,  whither  also  retired 
in  dismay  the  Justicia  and  several  other  chiefs  and 
magnates,  after  having  reluctantly  come  out  of  Sar- 
agoza  with  the  rabble,  who  had  rather  dragged 
them  onward  than  followed  them.  The  insurgents, 
who  acted  like  a  confused  mob,  and  not  like  a  body 
of  armed  men  organized  for  battle,  on  finding  them 
selves  deserted  by  those  to  whose  personal  rank  and 
official  dignity  they  looked  up  as  a  protection  and 
encouragement  in  their  hazardous  enterprise,  return 
ed  to  Saragoza  in  much  disorder.  From  Epila  the 
Justicia  and  his  companions  published  an  address  to 
the  Kingdom,  in  which  they  justified  their  conduct 
on  the  plea  of  necessity,  as  their  forces  were  totally 
inadequate  to  the  object  which  they  had  in  view, 
and  were  even  so  mutinous  as  to  threaten  the  lives 


202  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

of  their  chiefs  "  at  every  step.'7  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Connt  of  Morata,  who  was  one  of  Philip's  most 
zealous  adherents,  wrote  to  him  to  boast  of  having 
defeated  the  plans  of  the  insurgents  and  to  recom 
mend  the  severest  chastisement  without  any  regard 
to  the  Fueros. 

It  was  certainly  an  ill-concerted  affair,  and  a  most 
lame  and  abortive  attempt  at  resistance.  It  was 
evident  that  there  was  no  general  disposition  on  the 
part  of  the  people  of  Aragon  to  engage  in  a  struggle 
against  the  royal  authority.  There  had  been  a 
spasmodic  convulsion  in  one  of  the  limbs,  but  the 
body  had  remained  quiescent.  Even  Saragoza 
opened  its  gates  to  Yargas,  who  entered  without  the 
slightest  opposition  on  the  12th  of  November. 
Under  such  circumstances,  the  prudent  commander 
very  properly  abstained  from  any  act  of  rigor. 
Moreover,  he  wrote  to  Philip  that  it  seemed  to  him 
opportune  to  grant  a  general  pardon  to  all,  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  persons  among  the  most  guilty, 
and  he  invited  the  Justicia,  the  Deputies  of  Sarago 
za,  the  Duke  of  Yillahermosa,  the  Count  of  Aranda, 
and  others,  to  return  without  apprehension,  and  with 
assurances  on  his  part  that  the  Fueros  would  be 
preserved  intact.  A  few  days  afterward,  Yargas, 
in  a  communication  to  the  King,  advised  again  a 
general  pardon.  "It  is  much  required/' he  said, 
"  that  the  pardon  be  as  full  as  possible,  and  that 
your  Majesty,  in  granting  it,  should  use  words  cal 
culated  to  tranquillize  them  on  the  preservation  of 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  203 

their  Fueros,  about  which  they  have  run  mad.  Let 
there  be  only  a  few  persons  excepted  from  it  and 
brought  to  trial,  and  things  will  work  well."  He 
added  that  it  would  be  proper  to  appoint  as  Yiceroy 
a  native  of  the  Kingdom,  and  he  assured  His  Majes 
ty  that  this  measure  and  others  of  the  like  nature 
would  bring  the  whole  people  back  to  their  senses 
and  to  their  duty.  Wise  and  humane  as  these  sug 
gestions  were,  they  failed  to  be  adopted.  They 
neither  suited  the  temper  and  usual  policy  of  Philip, 
nor  his  designs  on  that  occasion.  There  was  no 
feeling  more  repugnant  to  his  cold  and  relentless 
heart  than  that  of  clemency.  Most  of  the  leaders 
of  the  insurrection  had  fled,  some  to  Catalonia,  others 
to  the  mountains,  and  emissaries  had  been  sent  in  pur 
suit.  But  the  Justicia,  with  other  magistrates  and 
magnates  of  the  land,  relying  on  the  conciliatory  lan 
guage  and  professed  indulgence  of  Yargas,  had 
presented  themselves  to  him  in  testimony  of  their 
unbroken  allegiance.  The  Marquis  of  Lombay, 
who  had  come  as  the  special  representative  of  Philip, 
renewed  to  them  the  promise  that  their  Fueros 
would  be  respected  ;  and  the  most  rigorous  meas 
ure  which  he  proposed  to  the  King  was  the  tempo 
rary  disfranchisement  of  the  Kingdom  and  city.  He 
also  recommended  that  the  Justicia  and  other  com 
petent  authorities  be  called  upon  to  acknowledge 
that  the  entering  of  the  army  into  Aragon  was  no 
violation  of  their  privileges,  and  that  their  antece 
dent  declarations  to  the  contrary  had  been  extorted 


204  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

from  them  by  the  mutineers.  This  he  thought  would 
be  a  sufficient  reparation.  But  the  Inquisitors 
were  of  a  much  more  inexorable  disposition.  Molina 
de  Medrano,  who  had  come  to  Madrid  to  claim  the 
reward  due  to  his  services,  to  his  zeal,  and  to  the 
dangers  he  had  run,  gave  his  opinion  to  the  Inquisi 
tor-General  on  the  course  which  he  deemed  advis 
able  to  pursue.  It  smelt  of  brimstone,  it  breathed 
vengeance,  it  was  hot  with  the  fire  of  the  stakes 
which  it  proposed  to  kindle,  and  called  for  the  show 
er  of  blood  in  which  the  imagination  of  this  fanatic 
Priest  was  already  luxuriating.  Harsh,  indeed, 
were  the  measures  advocated  by  him  for  the  present 
correction  and  future  amelioration  of  the  Aragonese. 
In  connection  with  this  document,  he  presented  to 
the  head  of  the  Inquisition  a  minute  list  containing 
the  names  of  those  whom  he  thought  the  most  guilty. 
That  list  embraced  laymen  and  ecclesiastics  from 
the  highest  to  the  lowest,  and  even  condescended 
not  to  ignore  most  obscure  and  humble  individuals 
among  the  peasantry  and  among  the  dregs  of  the 
populace  of  cities. 

Tranquillity,  however,  had  been  restored  in  Sar- 
agoza,  and  it  seemed  as  if  all  these  disturbances  were 
destined  to  have  everywhere  a  pacific  termination. 
The  Marquis  of  Lombay,  who  was  known  to  possess 
the  instructions  of  Philip,  and  whose  deportment, 
therefore,  was  supposed  to  be  indicative  of  the  in 
tentions  of  the  Sovereign,  had  alighted  at  the  house 
of  his  uncle,  the  Duke  of  Yillahermosa,  and  become 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  205 

his  guest.  There  also  Vargas  and  the  other  officers 
of  the  army  were  duly  entertained.  It  was  augured 
from  these  circumstances  that  the  Duke  and  others 
who  had  been  connected  with  the  recent  popular 
commotions  had  very  little  to  apprehend.  The  Jus- 
ticia  had  resumed  his  functions  and  opened  his 
Court.  The  people  were  quiet  and  submissive  ;  every 
thing  looked  fair  and  promising,  and  wore  a  smiling 
aspect.  All  were  rejoicing  at  the  policy  of  concilia 
tion  and  leniency  which  appeared  to  have  been 
adopted,  when  suddenly  the  serene  horizon  was 
overcast,  and  the  storm  of  royal  resentment  which, 
unperceived,  had  been  secretly  gathering  in  the  dis 
tance,  swept  over  the  devoted  city.  The  theatrical 
effect  which  had  been  produced  in  Brussels  on  the 
9th  of  September,  1567,  by  the  treacherous  arrest 
of  Egmont  and  Horn,  who  had  been  decoyed  by  the 
blandishments  of  the  Duke  of  Alva,  seemed  to  have 
been  fondly  remembered  by  Philip,  who  determined 
to  have  something  like  a  repetition  of  the  scene  in 
Saragoza,  although  with  different  actors.  On  the 
19th  of  December,  1591,  at  noon,  the  Justicia,  with 
his  lieutenants,  was  leaving  the  palace  where  they 
had  been  assembled  in  the  regular  discharge  of 
their  duties,  and  was  proceeding  to  the  neighboring 
church  of  St.  John  to  hear  mass,  when,  in  obedience 
to  secret  orders  forwarded  to  Yargas,  he  was  ar 
rested,  to  his  utter  amazement,  in  the  name  of  the 
King,  by  Captain  Yelasco,  at  the  head  of  a  com 
pany  of  Arquebusiers,  and  conducted  to  the  head- 


206  PHILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN. 

quarters  of  Vargas,  who  committed  him  to  the  cus 
tody  of  Colonel  Francisco  de  Bobadilla.  On  the  very 
same  day,  with  no  less  deceitful  management,  the 
Duke  of  Villahermosa  and  the  Count  of  Aranda 
were  made  prisoners,  and  transported,  the  one  to 
the  castle  of  Burgos,  and  the  other  to  the  fortress 
of  the  Mota  de  Medina.  Terror  hung  like  a  funereal 
pall  over  Saragoza,  and  Philip  may  well  be  supposed 
to  have  rejoiced,  a  second  time,  at  the  grand  stage 
effect  of  his  dramatic  combinations. 

On  this  occasion  he  acted  with  more  promptitude 
than  was  his  wont,  and  this  departure  from  his 
habits  was  the  more  striking  from  the  fact  that  there 
was  no  necessity  for  it.  Poor  Lanuza,  notwith 
standing  his  illustrious  name  and  his  exalted  sta 
tion,  was  not  a  dangerous  man,  and  it  was  evident 
that  he  had  been  but  an  unwilling  tool  in  the  hands 
of  the  insurgents.  As  soon  as  the  opportunity  had 
presented  itself,  he  had  abandoned  them,  carrying 
away  with  him  the  national  standard  of  St.  George 
and  the  banner  emblazoned  with  the  coat-of-arms 
of  Aragon,  round  which  their  disorderly  band  had 
tumultuously  rallied.  If  he  had  deserved  any  pun 
ishment  at  all,  it  would  probably  have  been  limited, 
under  any  other  Sovereign,  to  a  severe  reprimand, 
or  an  incarceration  of  a  few  months.  He  was  the 
head  of  one  of  the  greatest  families  of  Aragon,  and, 
almost  by  hereditary  right,  filled  the  office  of  Justi- 
cia,  which  was  the  highest  under  the  Crown,  and 
which  for  near  two  centuries  had  been  in  his  family 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  207 

as  an  heir-loom.  But  these  circumstances  were  no 
protection  to  him,  and  were,  perhaps,  the  very 
cause  of  the  harsh  doom  to  which  he  was  subjected. 
On  the  night  following  the  day  of  his  arrest,  he  was 
notified  to  prepare  to  die  on  the  next  morning. 
"What!"  exclaimed  the  unfortunate  man,  "who 
condemns  me?'7  " The  King  himself/' was  the  an 
swer.  " But,"  replied  the  prisoner,  "I  cannot  be 
tried  and  judged  by  any  other  authority  than  the 
King  and  Cortes  assembled  together  for  that  pur 
pose."  All  his  remonstrances  were  useless.  No 
accusation  was  brought  against  him  ;  he  was  not 
even  interrogated  ;  and  there  was  not  the  shadow 
of  a  trial.  The  King  had  merely  written  to  Var 
gas  :  "You  will  arrest  Don  Juan  de  Lanuza,  and 
you  will  have  his  head  immediately  cut  off."  This 
laconic  sentence  was  sufficient  to  put  to  death  the 
Supreme  Magistrate  of  Aragon,  among  whose  attri 
butes  was  that  of  checking  the  royal  power  and 
compelling  it  to  act  in  conformity  with  the  Constitu 
tion  and  laws  of  the  Kingdom.  In  preceding  ages, 
the  Aragonese  would  have  risen  to  one  man,  nobles 
and  peasants,  to  resist  such  an  attempt  against  the 
sacred  person  of  the  Justicia.  But  the  times  had 
changed ;  the  people  had  gradually  been  tamed  to 
servitude,  and  not  a  hand  was  raised  to  strike  for  the 
expiring  liberties  of  Aragon.  No  effort  was  made 
to  save  Lanuza  thus  summarily  disposed  of,  as  if  he 
had  been  the  slave  of  some  Turkish  Bashaw,  and 
not  the  free  subject  of  a  Christian  Prince.  He  was 


208  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

given  the  Jesuit  Ibanez  for  his  confessor,  and  a  cer 
tain  number  of  priests  were  designated  to  accom 
pany  him  to  the  scaffold,  which  was  erected  during 
the  night  in  the  market-place  ;  for  Philip  always 
pretended  to  take  great  interest  in  the  salvation  of 
the  souls  of  his  victims.     At  one  in  the  morning, 
the  whole  army  being  under  arms  and  batteries  of 
cannon  enfilading  the  principal  streets,  Don  Juan  de 
Lanuza,    chained   like  a  common   malefactor,    and 
attired  in  the  same  black  costume  which  he  habit 
ually  wore  on  account  of  the  recent  death  of  his 
father,  was  taken  in  his  own  coach  to  the  place  of 
execution,  where  trumpets  sounded  and  proclama 
tion  was  made  that  the  King  had  ordered  his  head 
to  be  struck  off,  his  houses  and  castles  to  be  razed 
to  the  ground,  and  all  his  earthly  possessions  to  be 
confiscated,  as  a  punishment  for  his  having,  "  with 
banners  displayed,"  opposed  the  royal  army.     The 
axe  of  the  executioner  was  soon  crimsoned  with  the 
best  blood  of  Aragon.     Unfortunately,  it  was  not 
one  man  only  who  had  perished  under  that  blow, 
but  all  the  liberties  of  the  Kingdom  ;  and  it  was 
what  Philip  had  meant  by  that  symbolical  death. 
"  The  record  of  that  sad  day,"  says  an  Aragonese 
historian,  "  should  be  chiseled  on  a  black  stone,  as 
a  testimonial  of  mourning  for  what  we  then  lost  for 


ever/' 


The  royal  vengeance  was  not  satisfied  with  the 
death  of  the  Justicia,  which  was  merely  the  signal 
for  throwing  aside  the  mask  of  dissimulation  and  in- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  209 

augurating  a  reign  of  terror  and  cruelty.  The  King 
vented  his  rage  even  on  inanimate  objects.  The 
palace  of  Lanuza,  from  which  his  aged  and  discon 
solate  mother  was  expelled,  and  which  ought  to  have 
been  defended  by  the  glory  of  the  historical  deeds 
of  its  former  possessors,  was  destroyed  to  its  founda 
tions.  All  the  houses  of  the  nobles  who  had  partici 
pated  in  the  late  disturbances  had  the  same  fate. 
It  is  impossible  to  imagine  anything  more  senseless 
than  this  wanton  destruction  of  property,  which,  if 
taken  away  from  traitors,  granting  them  to  be  such, 
would  in  other  hands  have  still  constituted  a  portion 
of  the  public  wealth.  But  the  wrath  of  Philip  seems 
to  have  been  tinctured  with  a  degree  of  insanity. 
The  best  streets  of  Saragoza  were  choked  with  heaps 
of  ruins,  as  if  an  Attila  had  passed  through  with  his 
Barbarian  hordes.  The  destruction  of  so  many 
noble  edifices  announced  but  too  clearly  what  Philip 
would  have  done  to  their  proprietors,  if  he  had  got 
hold  of  them.  The  blow  of  the  executioner's  axe 
would  have  sounded  still  more  gratefully  in  his  ear 
than  that  of  the  mason's  pick  engaged  in  the  work 
of  demolition.  Some  of  his  intended  victims,  not 
trusting  to  his  hypocritical  mansuetude,  had  fled  in 
time,  but  too  many,  however,  had  remained  in  his 
power.  The  Duke  of  Yillahermosa  and  the  Count 
of  Aranda  had  died  in  their  prison  before  sentence 
had  been  pronounced  against  them.  Their  destiny 
had  been  a  singular  one.  Distrusted  by  the  people, 
who  had  threatened  their  lives  and  compelled  them 

14 


210  PHILIP   II;    OF   SPAIN. 

to  fly  for  safety  oil  account  of  their  supposed  attach 
ment  to  the  King's  interests,  they  were  imprisoned 
and  perhaps  put  to  death  by  him  on  account  of  their 
fancied  zeal  in  the  cause  of  the  insurgents.  Don 
Diego  de  Heredia,  Baron  of  Barboles,  and  Don  Juan 
De  Luna,  Lord  of  Purroy,  had  their  heads  struck 
off,  after  having  been  subjected  to  torments  which 
it  would  be  sickening  to  relate.  Others  soon  fol 
lowed,  and  the  planks  of  the  scaffold  had  no  time  to 
dry.  They  were  kept  reeking  with  plebeian  and 
noble  blood — the  blood  of  the  patrician,  the  com 
moner  and  artisan — the  blood  of  the  aged  and  the 
young,  without  discrimination  and  mercy.  Some 
were  beheaded,  others  strangled,  many  quartered 
and  disemboweled  ;  and  all  these  sacrifices  to  Moloch 
were  marked  with  a  variety  in  the  mode  of  execu 
tion  which  showed  a  striking  fertility  of  imagination 
in  the  contriver.  Each  dish  offered  at  this  banquet 
of  death  was  cooked  up  in  a  different  style  to  stimu 
late,  as  it  were,  the  appetite  of  the  grisly  Monarch. 
Heads  were  stuck  up  plentifully  in  the  most  conspi 
cuous  places  of  public  resort,  with  what  was  thought 
to  be  appropriate  inscriptions.  The  baptism  of 
blood  and  tears  was  not  confined  to  Saragoza,  but 
extended  to  Teruel,  a  considerable  town,  and  to 
various  other  points.  Something  new  and  entirely 
original  closed  this  scenic  representation  of  which 
Philip  was  the  author,  and  for  which  he  certainly 
deserved  the  plaudits  of  the  inmates  of  Pande 
monium.  Before  the  curtain  fell,  the  hangman  was 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  211 

hung  by  his  own  aid.  It  was,  we  presume,  intended 
as  one  of  those  laughable  farces  which  are  generally 
given  to  the  public  after  the  performance  of  tragedies. 
The  mood  of  the  populace  must  have  been  suddenly 
moved  by  it  from  grief  to  joy,  and  it  is  not  to  be 
doubted  that  they  enthusiastically  clapped  their 
hands  at  the  perpetration  of  this  grim  joke. 

At  last  Philip,  having  glutted  his  ire,  imitated  his 
father,  who  had  granted  an  amnesty  after  having 
destroyed  the  chief  participators  in  the  insurrection 
of  Castile.  Charles  had  been  most  sanguinary,  and 
his  son  willingly  trod  in  his  footsteps  on  an  occasion 
of  a  similar  nature.  The  pardon  granted  by  Philip 
was  after  the  fashion  of  the  one  vouchsafed  by  Charles 
more  than  half  a  century  before.  It  purported 
to  be  general,  but  there  were  so  many  exceptions 
that  the  number  of  the  excepted  exceeded  that  of 
the  pardoned.  What  made  this  document  still  more 
striking,  was  the  complacency  with  which  the  King 
complimented  himself  on  his  paternal  indulgence  and 
wonderful  benignity  of  heart.  In  Castile,  after 
having  crushed  those  among  the  inhabitants  of  that 
Kingdom  who  had  attempted  to  defend  their  time- 
honored  liberties,  Charles  had,  on  the  28th  of  Oc 
tober,  1522,  granted  a  general  amnesty,  which  par 
doned  only  those  who  had  no  need  of  his  mercy, 
because  they  could  not  be  reached  by  the  law,  even 
in  its  most  far-fetched  interpretation  and  application. 
In  Aragon,  on  the  24th  of  September,  1591,  Philip 
repeated  the  same  fraudulent  act  of  clemency. 


212  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

There  was  the  same  family  resemblance  in  these  two 
acts— a  uniformity  of  bad  faith,  hypocrisy  and  cruel 
ty,  which  showed  that  both  proceeded  from  kindred 
sources. 

There  is  hardly  on  record  an  instance  of  more 
exquisite  mockery  than  this  general  pardon.  It  was 
not  enough  that  the  number  of  the  excepted  exceeded 
that  of  the  pardoned  ;  but  the  Inquisition,  encouraged 
by  the  Royal  protection,  having  gone  to  work  with 
great  zeal  and  on  its  own  account,  independently  of 
the  action  of  the  civil  authorities,  the  wretches  who 
had  escaped  from  Oharybdis  fell  into  Scylla.  The 
Holy  Office  swept  into  its  dungeons  about  one 
hundred  and  thirty  persons  who  had  eluded  the 
grasp  of  the  Courts  of  secular  jurisdiction.  As  they 
were  tried  before  an  Ecclesiastical  Tribunal,  the 
natural  inference  would  be  that  it  was  for  offences 
against  religion  or  the  Church.  But  such  was  not 
the  fact,  except  in  a  few  cases.  Most  of  the  prisoners 
were  only  found  guilty  of  having  assisted  the  flight 
of  Antonio  Perez,  or  of  having  done  or  said  some 
thing  or  other  to  resist  the  Royal  army.  One  could 
hardly  have  supposed  that  such  offences  were  cog 
nizable  by  the  Inquisition,  but  it  was  held  by  that 
Tribunal  that  Antonio  Perez  having  fled  from  its 
prison,  into  which  he  had  been  cast  on  a  charge  of 
heresy,  all  those  who  had  given  him  aid  and  comfort 
under  any  pretence  whatever,  and  who  had  at 
tempted,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  oppose  the  army 
which  had  been  sent  to  support  the  Holy  Office, 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  213 

were  necessarily  heretics,  wherefore  it  pronounced 
sentence  upon  the  accused,  and  for  its  execution 
handed  them  over  to  the  civil  authority.  Some 
were  put  to  death,  some  banished ;  on  others 
lighter  penalties  were  indicted.  As  to  Perez,  he  was 
decreed  to  be  guilty  of  heresy  in  the  last  degree  ; 
and  in  consequence  of  his  having  taken  refuge  in 
France,  his  effigy,  with  a  high  conical  hat  on  its 
head,  and  dressed  in  a  long  yellow  robe  on  which 
were  represented  the  flames  of  hell,  was  burned  in 
an  auto  defe  which  took  place  on  the  20th  of  Octo 
ber,  1592,  and  lasted  from  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing  until  nine  at  night.  From  its  duration,  it  is  easy 
to  imagine  the  number  of  its  victims.  When  the 
last  had  been  reduced  to  ashes  by  those  worse  than 
cannibal  monsters,  the  effigy  of  Perez,  which  had 
been  reserved  to  close  this  demoniacal  exhibition, 
was  pitched  into  the  blazing  pile.  His  sons,  his 
daughters,  and  all  their  male  descendants,  were  de 
clared  incapable  forever  of  possessing  any  ecclesi 
astical  or  secular  dignities,  benefices,  or  offices 
whatever,  and  were  prohibited  from  having  on  their 
persons  any  ornament  of  gold  or  silver,  or  pearls, 
precious  stones,  or  corals — from  using  silk,  camlet 
and  fine  cloths  as  articles  of  dress — from  riding  on 
horseback  —  and  from  doing  many  other  things 
which  were  usually  interdicted  to  persons  who 
had  incurred  the  excommunication  of  the  Holy 
Office. 

Thus,  hand  in  hand,  went  to  work  in  harmonious 


214  PHILIP    II.   OF   SPAIN. 

accord  the  Grand  Inquisitor  and  the  King  ;  the 
jackal  hunted  for  the  lion.  Philip  had  attained  his 
object :  he  had  struck  such  terror  into  the  Aragonese, 
that  it  was  evident  he  could  henceforth  do  anything 
he  pleased  without  expecting  the  slightest  resistance. 
They  had  been  taught  that  Iheir  boasted  privileges, 
franchises  and  immunities  had  become  but  the  fan 
tasies  of  an  idle  dream,  and  that,  in  reality,  they 
were  at  the  mercy  of  an  inflexible  despot.  Their 
conscience  must  have  told  them,  besides,  that  they 
were  suffering  the  consequences  of  that  retributive 
justice  which  is  sometimes  awarded  to  nations  as 
well  as  to  individuals.  About  seventy  years  before, 
when  they  had  been  called  upon  by  the  Castilians, 
their  neighbors,  to  help  them  in  maintaining  their 
liberties  against  Charles  the  Fifth,  they  had  remain 
ed  indifferent  and  egotistically  inactive.  Those 
liberties  were  extinguished  on  the  battle-field  of 
Yillalar.  Now  the  turn  of  Aragon  had  come  ;  and 
when  she  also  cried  for  assistance,  an  army  of  those 
enslaved  Castilians,  who  remembered  perhaps  but 
too  keenly  how  their  ancestors  had  been  abandoned 
to  their  fate  on  a  similar  occasion,  drowned  in  blood 
her  long-enjoyed  and  hereditary  liberties.  It  must 
also  be  admitted  that  the  protection  which  the  Ara- 
gonese  granted  to  Perez  was  injudicious.  He  was 
a  very  wicked  man,  and  it  is  not  in  support  of  one 
so  little  worthy  of  the  sympathies  of  a  high-minded 
and  generous  people,  that  they  ought  to  have  gone 
into  a  contest  about  their  Fueros.  That  individual 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  215 

was  accused  of  having  committed  crimes  in  Castile, 
and  had  fled  to  Aragon  as  to  a  sanctuary.  We  can 
not  but  think  that  he  ought  to  have  been  surrendered. 
It  looks  like  an  unwarrantable  pretension  on  the  part 
of  the  Aragonese  to  have  insisted  on  his  being  tried 
in  Aragon,  because  he  was  a  native  of  that  King 
dom,  for  acts  which  he  had  done  in  Castile.  If  this 
was  one  of  their  privileges,  it  would  have  been 
wise  to  have  relinquished  it,  because  improper,  and 
to  have  saved  the  rest  by  this  prudent  and  just 
concession.  It  would  at  least  have  left  Philip  with 
out  a  pretext  for  aggression. 

Notwithstanding  his  easy  triumph,  Philip  thought 
it  expedient  to  give  an  aspect  of  legality  to  the  new 
relations  which  brute  force  had  established  between 
the  Crown  and  the  Kingdom  of  Aragon.  With  that 
view,  he  convened  the  Cortes  at  Tarazona,  to  revise 
and  reform  the  Aragonese  Fueros.  It  was  custom 
ary  for  the  King  in  person  to  open  their  session  ; 
but  alleging  that  it  would  be  inconvenient  for  him 
to  meet  them  at  that  time,  he  had  himself  represent 
ed  by  the  Archbishop  of  Saragoza,  who  read  the 
royal  speech.  Shortly  after,  the  Archbishop  having 
died,  the  King  appointed  as  his  representatives  the 
Magistrate  Don  Juan  Campi  and  Doctor  Don  Juan 
Bautista  de  Lanuza,  who  were  then  performing  ad 
interim  the  functions  of  Justicia  of  Aragon.  He 
associated  with  them  a  learned  jurisconsult,  named 
Geronimo  Perez  de  Nueros.  There  appears  to  have 
been  a  fatality  attached  to  those  who,  at  that  session 


216  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

of  the  Cortes,  were  personating  the  King  ;  for  Campi 
and  Nueros  also  died  shortly  after  the  Archbishop, 
leaving  their  colleague  Lanuza  to  act  by  himself. 
Probably  after  having  ascertained  that  the  temper 
of  the  Cortes  was  sufficiently  pliant  to  suit  his  pur 
poses  and  to  invite  his  presence,  at  last  came  the 
King  with  his  son,  Don  Philip,  the  Hereditary 
Prince,  who  was  sworn  before  that  assembly  as  his 
successor.  The  Cortes  seem  to  have  crouched 
servilely  under  the  heavy  iron  rod  which  Philip 
had  extended  over  the  Kingdom,  for  instead  of  re 
senting  the  tyrannical  and  bloody  course  which  he 
had  lately  pursued,  they  voted  a  larger  sum  of 
money  as  subsidy  than  had  ever  been  granted  to 
that  Monarch  by  any  of  their  predecessors.  Fully 
aware  that  they  shared  in  the  general  consternation, 
convinced  that  they  were  broken  down  in  spirit  and 
ready  for  the  yoke  which  he  had  prepared  for  their 
necks,  Philip  availed  himself  of  these  favorable  cir 
cumstances  to  obtain  the  modification  or  repeal  of  all 
the  Fueros  which  he  considered  incompatible  with 
the  absolute  power  of  the  Crown.  To  pass  certain 
laws  and  to  tax  the  people,  a  unanimity  of  votes  had 
been  indispensable  in  the  Cortes  of  Aragon.  It  was 
reduced  to  a  bare  majority,  as  in  Castile.  The  nom 
ination  to  some  important  offices  in  the  magistracy 
was  conceded  to  the  King.  Even  the  appointment 
6f  the  Justicia  was  left  to  him,  and  he  could  remove 
at  will  that  exalted  functionary,  who  therefore  ceased 
to  be  independent.  It  had  been  the  main  column 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  217 

which  had  supported  the  whole  edifice  of  the  liber 
ties  of  Aragon  ;  for  that  magistrate  had  been  for 
ages  the  embodiment  of  the  power  and  majesty  of 
the  people  and  a  counterpoise  to  the  royal  author 
ity,  in  the  same  way  in  which  the  Tribunes  of  Rome 
had  checked  the  Consuls  and  Senate  of  that  Com 
monwealth.  It  was  an  immemorial  institution, 
which  was  venerated  and  cherished  by  the  Aragon- 
ese  as  the  guarantee  of  their  franchises.  It  was 
now  reduced  to  a  mere  shadow.  The  name  was  re 
tained,  but  the  substance  was  gone.  The  Justicia 
had  become  a  mere  royal  functionary  insteadhof 
being  the  representative  of  the  people.  He  had  not 
even  the  privilege  of  appointing  his  own  lieutenants. 
Philip  took  that  into  his  hands,  still  with  the 
acquiescence  of  the  Cortes.  They  no  longer  had 
anything  to  refuse.  Clearly  the  wild  unicorn  had 
been  tamed,  and  bore  the  saddle  gently.  Ready  to 
vault  into  it  at  will,  despotism,  booted  and  spurred, 
stood  by  with  looks  of  self-complacency  and  with 
whip  in  hand. 

Pleased  with  the  results  of  the  castigation  which 
he  had  inflicted,  Philip  thought  that  the  moment 
had  come  for  showing  some  degree  of  clemency. 
He  therefore  relieved  the  city  of  Saragoza  from  the 
presence  of  the  army  which  he  had  quartered  on  its 
inhabitants,  but  he  left  in  its  citadel  a  garrison  suf 
ficiently  strong  to  maintain  his  authority,  should 
there  happen  to  be  again  any  disposition  to  oppose 
it.  Such  was  the  end  of  the  famous  trial  of  Perez, 


218  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

which  had  lasted  for  so  many  years,  and  which  made 
so  much  noise  at  the  time.  He  had  succeeded  at 
last  in  flying  from  the  Kingdom  where  he  had  so 
long  wielded  so  much  power,  to  pass  the  remainder 
of  his  life  in  exile  ;  and  Aragon,  his  native  land,  had 
to  submit  to  radical  changes  in  its  constitutional 
and  fundamental  laws.  Perez,  however,  was  less 
the  cause  of  it,  than  the  occasion.  Whilst  Aragon 
had  remained  a  distinct  Kingdom,  the  Barons  and 
the  Commons  had  been  able  to  bridle  successfully 
the  royal  authority,  although  the  frequent  struggles 
between  the  sovereigns  and  their  subjects  had  been 
attended  with  much  bloodshed,  and  with  alternate 
success  on  either  side.  But  the  people,  on  the  whole, 
had  stood  their  ground  and  retained  their  liberties, 
only  allowing  to  their  kings  a  limited  power.  How 
ever,  when  Ferdinand,  the  future  conqueror  of  Gra 
nada,  married  Isabella  of  Castile,  when  the  Iberian 
Peninsula,  with  the  exception  of  Portugal,  after  the 
subjugation  of  the  Moors,  was  united  under  one 
sceptre  resplendent  with  glory,  in  the  hands  of  the 
great  Emperor  Charles  Y.,  when  by  successive 
events  the  Sovereign  of  Spain  became  so  powerful 
as  to  threaten  the  independence  of  Europe,  the  con 
tinuation  of  the  existence  of  the  franchises  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Aragon  must  have  appeared  to  many 
more  than  problematical.  Sagacious  minds  must 
have  foreseen  that  their  destruction  was  inevitable  ; 
that  it  was  a  mere  question  of  time,  of  opportunity 
and  expediency.  The  nobles  had  been  seduced  by 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  219 

the  splendors  of  a  Court  which  had  been  refined 
into  the  most  polished  and  brilliant  in  the  world. 
The  immense  patronage  of  the  Crown  had  attrac 
tions  which  could  not  be  resisted.  There  were,  not 
only  in  Spain,  but  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe, 
a  multitude  of  viceroyalties  and  other  magnificent 
offices  to  be  distributed  with  a  profuse  hand.  Thus 
the  Barons  had  been  gradually  tempted  to  exchange 
the  rude  independence  and  petty  royalty  which  they 
enjoyed  in  their  castellated  domains  among  their 
native  mountains,  for  the  distinctions  and  honors, 
the  titles  and  wealth  which  disguised  from  the  world, 
and  perhaps  from  their  own  eyes,  the  state  of  gorgeous 
servitude  into  which  they  had  passed.  Besides,  in 
the  march  of  ages,  and  in  the  changes  which  it 
brings,  the  days  had  gone  by,  when  the  poor  but 
proud  and  warlike  population  of  Aragon,  who 
thought  themselves  compensated  by  the  blessings  of 
freedom  for  the  barrenness  of  their  soil  and  the  harsh 
ness  of  their  climate,  and  who  had  long  enjoyed 
republican  institutions  under  the  ostensible  form  of 
monarchy,  could  say  to  their  Sovereign,  on  his 
taking  his  coronation  oath  :  "  We,  who,  individually, 
are  as  good  as  you  are,  and  who,  collectively,  are 
more  powerful,  make  you  King,  on  condition  that 
you  shall  observe  our  laws  and  respect  our  liberties. 
If  not,  no."  This  was  very  well  when  that  Sover 
eign,  in  his  circumscribed  territory,  was  but  little 
above  the  great  magnates  of  his  realm,  and  when  he 
admitted  himself  that  he  was  but  the  "  comrade  of 


220  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

his  vassals."  But  such  language  had  ceased  to  be 
true,  and  could  therefore  no  longer  be  addressed 
with  effect  to  kings  in  whose  dominions  the  sun 
never  set,  and  whose  power  had  grown  to  be  an 
object  of  terror  to  nations  in  comparison  to  which 
the  Aragonese  sank  into  insignificance.  Hence, 
dazzled  by  the  achievements  of  the  glorious  Em 
peror  Charles  V.,  remembering  how  easily  the  Cas- 
tilians  had  been  crushed  by  him  when  attempting  to 
resist  his  encroachments  on  their  liberties,  raised  in 
the  belief  that  the  power  which  he  had  bequeathed 
to  his  stern  son  was  irresistible,  the  new  generation 
of  Aragonese,  when  called  upon  to  rise  in  arms  like 
one  man,  or  lose  those  franchises  which  had  become 
hoary  with  age  like  the  weather-beaten  towers  of 
their  old  castles,  proved  unequal  to  the  noble  and 
arduous  task.  The  hope  of  success  did  not  dawn 
upon  their  hearts,  and  therefore  their  efforts  were 
but  feeble,  and  almost  confined  to  the  city  of  Sara- 
goza  and  to  its  populace,  instigated  by  a  few  noble 
men,  friends  of  Perez,  whose  chief  object  probably 
was  rather  to  liberate  him  by  the  outbreak  of  a  sud 
den  riot,  than  to  engage  in  a  serious  and  protracted 
struggle  for  the  Fueros  of  Aragon  against  the  over 
whelming  forces  which  Philip  had  at  his  command. 
In  this  way  may  be  reasonably  explained  the  want  of 
energy  and  unanimity  which  has  been  observed,  and 
the  easy  surrender  by  the  Aragonese  of  all  those 
rights  and  immunities  which  had  been  so  dear  to 
them.  The  sap  of  the  tree  had  ceased  to  be  healthy  j 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  221 

the  canker-worm  was  under  its  bark,  making  its 
way  to  the  heart ;  its  roots  had  become  loose  ;  so 
that,  at  the  first  blow  of  Philip's  axe,  the  pride  of  the 
forest  fell  to  the  ground  without  the  honor  of  a 
sturdy  resistance. 

As  to  Perez,  whom  we  have  left  flying  out  of  Sar- 
agoza,  he  reached  the  Pyrenees,  where  he  remained 
concealed  in  a  mountain  cave  three  days,  with  no 
other  aliment  than  some  bread  and  wine.  At  night 
he  went  out  in  search  of  water.  Being  informed 
that  he  was  surrounded  by  his  pursuers,  and  that 
all  the  passes  to  France  were  guarded,  he  had  the 
hardihood  to  return  to  Saragoza,  where  he  thought 
he  would  be  in  greater  safety.  In  that  city  he 
remained  hidden  in  the  house  of  Don  Martin  de 
Lanuza,  a  kinsman  of  the  Justicia,  who  was  soon  to 
perish  on  the  scaffold,  until  the  approach  of  Var 
gas  with  his  troops  ;  when,  two  days  before  they 
entered  the  city,  he  again  escaped,  after  having 
eluded  the  vigilance  of  the  Inquisition.  At  last  he 
succeeded  in  crossing  the  Pyrenees,  and  arrived  at 
Pau,  in  the  principality  of  Bearne,  on  the  21st  of 
November,  1591.  There  he  presented  himself  to 
the  sister  of  Henry  IV.,  Catherine  of  Bourbon,  to 
whom  he  had  previously  written  to  secure  her  pro 
tection.  The  agents  of  Philip  followed  him  and 
invited  him  to  return  to  Spain,  on  guaranteeing  a 
speedy  adjustment  of  his  difficulties  with  the  King. 
But  Perez,  who  was  informed  of  the  atrocities  per 
petrated  against  his  partisans  in  Saragoza,  was  proof 


222  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

against  deception.  Being  frustrated  in  their  design 
to  inveigle  Perez,  those  agents  attempted  his  life 
several  times  and  in  several  ways,  but  without 
success.  In  February,  1592,  he  and  some  of  his 
friends,  having  obtained  from  the  Princess  Catherine 
the  assistance  of  some  companies  of  men-at-arms, 
penetrated  into  Aragon  in  the  hope  of  producing  an 
insurrection,  and  pushed  as  far  as  the  town  of  Bies- 
cas  ;  but,  being  attacked  by  the  inhabitants  of  Huesca 
and  Jaca,  and  by  Vargas  with  a  portion  of  his  army, 
he  was  routed  with  great  slaughter  and  compelled 
again  to  take  refuge  in  France,  where  he  offered  his 
services  to  Henry  IV.,  who  accepted  them.  Henry 
probably  thought  that  Perez,  with  his  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  character,  plans  and  secrets  of 
Philip,  might  be  a  useful  instrument,  and,  in  the 
Spring  of  1593,  admitted  him  into  his  presence  at 
Tours,  where  the  King  and  the  exiled  minister  had 
long  and  frequent  conferences,  from  which  it  re 
sulted  that  Perez  was  sent  to  Queen  Elizabeth  with 
letters  from  Henry.  Whilst  in  England,  Perez 
gained  the  good-will  of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  through 
whose  patronage  he  obtained  a  pension  of  one  hun 
dred  and  thirty  pounds.  During  his  residence  in 
that  country  he  published  a  political  pamphlet  under 
the  name  of  Eaphael  Peregrino,  in  which  he  made 
certain  revelations  concerning  Philip,  and  increased 
the  irritation  of  that  Monarch.  Shortly  after,  two 
Irishmen,  who  had  been  sent  by  the  Count  of  Fuentes, 
Governor  of  the  Low  Countries,  to  kill  Perez,  were 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  223 

arrested  and  executed.  In  1595,  war  being  for 
mally  declared  between  Philip  and  Henry,  Antonio 
Perez  was  recalled  from  England  by  the  latter 
Prince,  who  had  availed  himself  of  the  Spaniard's 
influence  with  the  Earl  of  Essex  to  prevail  upon 
Queen  Elizabeth,  of  whom  that  nobleman  was  the 
favorite,  to  assist  France  in  carrying  on  hostilities 
against  Spain.  Whilst  in  Paris,  Perez  was  very 
near  being  assassinated  by  two  emissaries  from 
Spain,  who  had  come  for  that  special  purpose.  One 
of  them  was  seized,  put  to  the  torture  and  executed. 
These  repeated  attempts  caused  great  alarm  to 
Perez,  who,  although  he  had  been  allowed  a  pension 
of  four  thousand  ducats  and  seemed  to  enjoy  all  the 
confidence  of  Henry,  was  so  restless  and  so  apprehen 
sive  of  the  consequences  of  Philip's  resentment,  that 
he  would  have  sought  shelter  somewhere  else,  if 
Henry  had  not  persuaded  him  that  he  could  be  no 
where  more  safe  than  at  his  side. 

In  the  Spring  of  1596,  Antonio  Perez  was  sent  a 
second  time  to  England  to  assist  in  the  negotiation 
of  an  offensive  and  defensive  alliance  between  that 
country  and  France  against  Spain.  But,  this  time, 
he  found  that  a  change  had  come  over  the  disposi 
tion  of  his  former  friend,  the  Earl  of  Essex.  This 
nobleman  avoided  seeing  him,  and  Perez  had  to 
return,  wounded  in  his  pride  by  the  conduct  of  Es 
sex,  and  with  the  mortification  of  not  having  con 
tributed  to  the  treaty  which  was  made  between 
France  and  England.  But  he  still  continued  to  be 


224  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

in  high  favor  with  the  King,  to  whom  he  must  have 
been  conscious  that  he  had  rendered  greater  services 
than  are  on  record,  since  he  prayed  for  rewards,  which 
were  promised  him,  and  which,  from  their  magni 
tude,  show  the  extent  of  the  appreciation  in  which 
he  was  held  by  the  King  :  1st.  A  Cardinal's  hat  for 
himself,  if  it  turned  out  to  be  true,  as  reported,  that 
his  wife  had  died,  and  if  not,  for  his  son  Gonzalo. 
2d.  A  pension  of  twelve  thousand  crowns,  secured 
on  ecclesiastical  benefices,  and  transmissible  to  his 
sons.  3d.  The  continuation  of  the  pension  of  four 
thousand  ducats  which  he  already  enjoyed.  4th.  A 
liberal  allowance  of  money  to  allow  him  to  establish 
himself  in  the  possession  of  the  office  of  Royal  Coun 
selor,  recently  granted  to  him  by  the  King.  5th.  A 
guard  for  the  security  of  his  person.  6th.  In  case 
of  a  treaty  of  peace  between  France  and  Spain,  the 
liberation  of  his  family  and  the  restoration  of  his 
confiscated  property  to  be  expressly  stipulated  in 
one  of  its  articles.  But,  in  1598,  when  the  treaty 
ofYervins  restored  peace  between  the  two  coun 
tries,  the  promise  made  to  Perez  was  forgotten,  or 
could  not  be  carried  into  execution.  No  stipulation 
was  made  in  his  favor  ;  and  if  Philip  had  not  died 
shortly  after,  the  fugitive  minister  would  probably 
have  fallen  a  victim,  in  the  end,  to  the  implacable 
hatred  of  that  Prince. 

It  is  reported  that  Philip,  a  few  days  before  his 
death,  drew  from  under  his  pillow  and  handed  to 
one  of  his  ministers  in  waiting  a  paper  which,  among 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  225 

other  things,  contained  the  following  expression  of 
his  desires:  "  Provided  that  the  wife  of  Antonio 
Perez  shall  retire  in  to  a  monastery,  whatever  prop 
erty  she  has  a  right  to  may  be  restored  to  her,  and 
her  children  permitted  to  inherit  it."  Be  it  in  con 
sequence  of  this  recommendation,  or  of  the  friend 
ship  which  had  always  existed  between  Perez  and 
the  family  of  the  Duke  of  Lerma,  the  omnipotent 
favorite  and  minister  of  the  new  King,  Philip  III., 
this  Prince,  when  he  went  to  Valencia  to  celebrate 
his  nuptials,  in  1599,  ordered  the  wife  of  Perez  out 
of  the  prison  in  which  she  was  detained.  She  im 
mediately  came  to  Madrid,  and  obtained  from  the 
Count  of  Miranda,  who  had  succeeded,  as  President 
of  the  Council  of  Castile,  Don  Rodrigo  Yasquez  de 
Arce,  the  old  enemy  of  Perez,  that  her  seven  sons  be 
set  free  from  their  incarceration.  It  had  lasted  nine 
years  !  When,  after  his  marriage,  Philip  III.  went  to 
Saragoza,  he  would  not  enter  the  city  before  the 
heads  of  the  wretches  who  had  been  put  to  death, 
in  1591,  were  removed  from  the  conspicuous  places 
which  they  had  so  long  occupied.  It  is  a  sad  illus 
tration  of  the  spirit  of  that  age  that  these  ghastly 
objects  should  have  been  exposed  for  so  many  years 
to  the  public  gaze  in  one  of  the  large  cities  of  Chris 
tendom.  Philip  intended  them,  probably,  as  long 
as  they  did  not  crumble  to  dust,  to  serve  as  a  me 
mento  and  warning  to  all  whom  it  might  concerns. 
His  son  and  successor,  in  conformity  with  the  advice 
of  the  same  Duke  of  Lerma,  granted  also,  on  that 

15 


226  PHILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN. 

occasion,  a  general  pardon  to  all  the  Aragonese 
exiles,  with  the  exception  of  Perez,  who  had  hoped 
for  more  clemency  from  his  new  Sovereign,  and 
who  desired  ardently  to  return  to  Spain,  particu 
larly  since  he  had  been  made  aware  that  he  had 
fallen  into  discredit  at  the  French  Court,  and  found 
it  to  be  a  laborious  task  to  obtain  the  payment  of 
his  pension.  On  the  death  of  Philip  II.,  in  whose 
side  he  was  a  thorn,  he  had  necessarily  ceased  to 
be  of  importance  to  Henry,  and  he  was  discarded 
accordingly. 

At  last,  in  the  hope  of  ingratiating  himself  with 
Philip  III.,  the  exile  left  Paris,  renounced  his  pen 
sion  of  four  thousand  ducats,  and  went  to  London  to 
expedite  the  peace  negotiations  which,  in  1604,  were 
pending  between  Spain  and  England.  But  the 
French  Secretary  of  State,  taking  in  ill  part  this 
conduct  of  Perez,  influenced  the  English  Court 
against  him,  so  that  this  unfortunate  and  restless 
man,  finding  that  he  was  not  welcome  there,  and  also 
that  his  offered  assistance  was  not  favorably  received 
by  the  Spanish  negotiators,  had  the  mortification  to 
be  compelled  to  return  to  France,  and  to  make 
again  an  appeal  to  the  generosity  of  Henry  IV., 
whose  pension  he  had  had  the  imprudence,  in  an  evil 
hour,  to  renounce.  But  he  supplicated  in  vain,  and 
he  became  so  reduced  in  his  circumstances  that  he 
had  to  humble  himself  so  low  as  to  apply  to  the 
French  Ministry  for  a  mere  pittance  to  save  himself 
from  perishing  from  want.  His  extreme  destitution 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN".  227 

increased  his  desire  to  return  to  his  native  country, 
and  he  importuned  two  Spanish  ambassadors  who 
succeeded  each  other  in  Paris  to  use  their  influence 
in  his  favor  and  procure  for  him  the  permission  to 
close  his  days  in  Spain.  But  he  learned  the  dire 
lesson  that,  when  a  man  has  grown  old  and  poor, 
when  he  is  withering  in  exile  in  a  foreign  land,  and 
when  nothing  is  to  be  hoped  or  feared  from  him, 
few,  if  any,  are  the  ears  that  will  listen  to  his  pray 
ers  ;  and,  in  1608,  the  once  powerful  minister  of 
Philip  II.,  who  had  enjoyed  so  long  a  share  of  that 
absolute  and  immense  power  which  had  made  itself 
felt  in  the  four  continents  of  the  world,  now  infirm, 
neglected,  forgotten,  sad  in  heart  and  broken  in 
spirit,  was  dragging  a  miserable  existence  in  one  of 
the  suburbs  of  Paris — a  fit  retribution  for  his  vices 
and  crimes,  and  a  striking  instance  of  the  vicissi 
tudes  of  life ! 

In  this  state  of  isolation  and  wretchedness,  Anto 
nio  Perez  passed  the  last  years  of  his  long  and 
eventful  life.  His  sole  consolation  was  to  have 
obtained  of  the  Pope  absolution  from  the  ecclesiasti 
cal  censures  which  had  been  decreed  against  him, 
and  permission  to  have  an  oratory  in  his  own  house, 
because  he  was  too  feeble  to  walk  to  church.  In 
1611,  he  applied  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  Inqui 
sition  for  leave  to  present  himself  before  the  Tribunal 
of  the  Holy  Office  sitting  in  Saragoza,  or  before  any 
other  which  might  be  designated,  to  establish  his 
innocence  of  the  charges  of  heresy  of  which  he  had 


228  PHILIP   II.    OF  SPAIN. 

been  found  guilty  in  his  absence.  But  hit;  petition 
was  received  with  no  favor.  A  few  months  after 
ward  he  became  very  ill,  and  was  attended  by  some 
Aragonese  exiles  who  were  united  together  by  the 
bond  of  common  misfortune.  As  the  dying  man 
could  no  longer  write,  he  dictated  to  Gil  de  la  Mesa, 
a  faithful  friend,  who  had  never  left  his  side  since 
his  career  of  adversity  had  begun,  the  following 
declaration  :  "In  the  situation  in  which  I  am,  and 
conscious  that  I  am  soon  to  render  my  accounts  to 
God,  I  aver  and  swear  that  I  have  always  lived 
and  that  I  die  like  a  true  Catholic  Christian,  and  I 
call  upon  God  to  be  my  witness."  If  Perez  believed 
what  he  thus  solemnly  asseverated,  it  was  another 
melancholy  instance  of  the  aberrations  to  which  the 
human  mind  is  liable.  If  not,  it  was  a  piece  of  pro 
fane  hypocrisy  which  can  hardly  be  accounted  for, 
because  it  could  be  of  no  service  to  him  in  the  world 
which  he  was  leaving.  It  might,  however,  be  sup 
posed  that  he  imagined  it  might  benefit  his  wife  and 
children,  about  whose  welfare  he  had  always  exhib 
ited  much  solicitude.  We  see  the  proof  of  that  solici 
tude  in  the  following  declaration  which  he  also  dicta 
ted  :  "  I  say  that,  if  I  die  in  the  Kingdom  of  France 
and  under  its  protection,  it  is  because  I  could  not 
do  otherwise,  and  because  I  have  been  driven  to  it 
by  the  violence  of  my  persecutors.  I  assure  the 
world  that  this  is  the  truth,  and  I  supplicate  my  King 
and  natural  Liege  Lord  that,  in  his  great  clemency  and 
magnanimity,  he  be  pleased  to  remember  the  servi- 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  229 

ces  rendered  by  niy  father  to  the  father  and  grand 
father  of  His  Majesty,  hoping  that  they  may  incline 
him  to  be  merciful  and  gracious  to  my  wife  and  to 
my  sons,  who  are  orphans  and  in  destitution,  and 
that  those  afflicted  and  miserable  objects  of  my  affec 
tion  will  not  lose,  on  account  of  their  father's  resi 
dence  and  death  in  a  foreign  land,  the  favors  which 
they  deserve  as  faithful  and  loyal  vassals,  which  I 
recommend  them  to  be,  to  the  end  of  their  career." 
A  few  hours  after  he  had  made  these  declarations, 
he  expired  on  the  3d  of  November,  1611,  at  the  age 
of  seventy- two.  His  widow  and  sons  immediately 
presented  a  petition  to  the  Holy  Office,  to  obtain 
permission  to  vindicate  the  memory  of  the  husband 
and  of  the  father.  It  was  granted,  and,  in  1615,  the 
Tribunal  of  the  Inquisition  sitting  at  Saragoza  pro 
nounced  a  sentence  which  rehabilitated  "  the  good 
name  and  memory  of  Antonio  Perez,"  and  declared 
his  sons  and  other  descendants  to  be  apt  to  fulfill 
all  offices  of  honor  and  profit.  As  to  the  papers 
concerning  this  famous  trial  of  Antonio  Perez,  which 
had  remained  in  the  hands  of  Judge  Vasquez  de  Arce, 
they  were  burned,  in  consequence  of  an  order  left  by 
Philip  to  that  effect.  It  had  lasted  thirty-one  years, 
during  which  had  happened  all  the  events  which  we 
have  related. 

Perez  had  died  in  the  arms  of  Gil  de  la  Mesa,  a 
kinsman  and  a  friend,  whose  disinterested  and  un 
wavering  attachment  to  the  fallen  minister  and 
wandering  beggar,  who  was  pursued  by  the  sleep- 


230  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

less  wrath  of  such  a  man  as  Philip,  deserves  to  be 
recorded  forever  in  justice  to  his  memory  and  for 
the  honor  of  the  human  race.  The  meeting  of  such 
a  character  as  De  la  Mesa  is  as  refreshing  to  the 
heart  of  the  historian,  in  his  dreary  journey  through 
an  interminable  avenue  of  selfish  passions  and  inter 
ests,  as  is  a  bubbling  fountain  to  the  parched  lips 
of  the  traveller  in  the  deserts  of  Arabia.  From  the 
night  of  the  28th  of  July,  1579,  when  Perez  had 
been  arrested,  to  his  death  in  1611,  a  period  of 
thirty -one  years  of  adversity,  Gil  de  la  Mesa  had 
forgotten  himself  to  think  only  of  the  friend  he  loved 
with  such  intense  fidelity  as  to  challenge  belief.  The 
icy  atmosphere  which  always  environs  misfortune 
had  no  chilling  effect  on  him.  There  was  too  much 
sunshine  in  his  noble  soul  ;  and  the  colder  blew  the 
wind  round  his  persecuted  and  forlorn  friend  the 
more  tightly  he  hugged  him  to  his  own  warm  bosom. 
It  is  beautiful  to  see  such  a  striking  example  of  self- 
abnegation.  With  the  fearless  energy  of  a  man  and 
the  tendernesss  of  a  woman,  he  watched  incessantly 
over  the  waning  fortune  of  Perez,  through  all  the 
various  phases  of  its  downward  course.  He  had 
constituted  himself  the  guardian  angel  of  the  desti 
tute,  and,  reversing  the  order  of  things  to  which 
we  are  accustomed,  he  had  made  himself  the  satel 
lite  and  worshiper  of  the  orb  of  day,  not  when  it 
ascends  with  gorgeous  splendor  to  its  meridian, 
but  when  faint  and  weak,  and  with  its  diadem  of 
light  struck  off  its  brow,  it  sinks,  on  the  brink  of  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  231 

western  horizon,  into  an  ocean  of  angry  and  tempes 
tuous  clouds.  As  long  as  there  had  been  a  chance 
of  saving  Perez  by  court  intrigues,  by  solicitations, 
and  prayers  addressed  to  the  King,  and  by  influences 
brought  to  bear  upon  his  enemies,  his  judges,  his 
accusers,  and  the  witnesses  to  be  heard  on  his  trial, 
Gil  de  la  Mesa,  by  day  and  b}r  night,  had  worked 
with  a  skill  which  had  only  been  equaled  by  his 
indefatigable  zeal.  After  Perez  had  been  put  to  the 
torture  and  his  ruin  appeared  to  be  irrevocably  de 
termined  upon,  it  was  Gil  de  la  Mesa  who  had  con 
trived  his  flight  from  his  prison  and  had  carried  him 
to  Aragon.  There  again  he  was  the  shield  which 
interposed  between  Philip  and  Perez.  There  he 
plotted,  cajoled,  bribed,  and  became  the  spirit  which 
infused  itself  into  the  Aragonese,  rousing  them  to 
armed  resistance  to  the  King.  It  was  he  who  led 
the  rioters  who  delivered  Perez ;  it  was  he  who 
accompanied  the  fugitive  in  all  his  wanderings  in 
the  Pyrenees,  and  at  last  conducted  him  safely  to 
France.  With  Perez  he  re-entered  Spain  sword  in 
hand  ;  with  him  he  fought  at  Biescas  ;  and  when 
defeated,  again  fled  with  him  through  a  thousand 
perils.  In  France,  in  England,  wherever  Perez  went, 
there  was  Gil  de  la  Mesa,  watching  over  a  life  so 
precious  to  him,  warding  off  the  assassin's  blow,  or 
detecting  the  more  subtle  attempt  of  the  hired  poi 
soner.  In  sickness,  in  destitution,  in  exile,  in  perils 
by  land  and  by  water,  in  those  depths  of  humiliation 
which  are  only  known  to  the  mighty  when  fallen 


232  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

from  their  high  estate,  whenever  the  soul  of  Perez 
was  ready  to  droop  in  despair,  there  was  Gil  de  la 
Mesa  whispering  consolations  and  ministering  assist 
ance.  His  was  the  only  fanaticism  permitted  to 
man  and  which  will  find  favor  with  God — the  fanat 
icism  of  friendship.  Povert}',  sorrows  of  all  sorts, 
dangers  of  all  descriptions,  seemed  to  have  attrac 
tions  for  Gil  de  la  Mesa,  if  they  only  gave  him  the 
opportunity  to  prove  his  devotion  to  his  friend. 
Truly,  Perez,  with  all  his  load  of  guilt  on  his  shoul 
ders,  must  have  been  gifted  with  endowments  of  a 
very  winning  nature,  arid  must  have  possessed 
something  wonderfully  lovable  to  have  inspired  the 
egotistical  heart  of  man  with  such  a  passionate 
attachment  as  was  displayed  by  Gil  de  la  Mesa  dur 
ing  more  than  thirty  long  years.  It  seems  to  have 
grown  stronger  with  age,  and  finally  it  stood  at  the 
grave  of  Perez,  unchanged,  unspotted,  as  vigorous 
as  ever,  and  dropping  tears  so  pure  that  a  seraph's 
wing  might  have  carried  them  to  Heaven.  In  the 
history  of  our  race,  those  men  who  have  made  them 
selves  famous  for  their  genius  are  innumerable  ;  but 
how  few  are  they  who  have  made  a  disinterested 
sacrifice  of  themselves  to  their  country,  and  much 
less  to  one  of  their  fellow  -  beings !  Hence  the 
amazement  which  such  a  friendship  as  Gil  de  la 
Mesa's  must  excite  in  the  human  breast,  and  surely 
a  sort  of  tender  and  reverential  admiration  is  due 
to  him  who  carried  the  noblest  sentiment  of  the 
heart  to  its  very  highest  degree  of  sublimity. 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  233 

The  end  of  Philip's  reign  was  marked  by  another 
criminal  trial,  which  is  one  of  the  historical  curiosi 
ties  of  the  epoch,  and  which  has  since  been  a  fruitful 
theme  for  writers  of  novels  and  dramas.  The  last 
King  of  Portugal,  Don  Sebastian,  with  the  inexpe 
rience  of  youth,  the  romantic  extravagance  of  chiv 
alry,  and  the  fiery  zeal  of  religious  fanaticism,  had, 
against  the  unanimous  remonstrances  of  his  wisest 
counsellors  and  of  his  uncle,  Philip  II.  of  Spain,  un 
dertaken  a  Quixotic  expedition  against  the  infidels 
of  the  Kingdom  of  Morocco — an  expedition  which 
terminated  in  his  death  on  the  battle-field  of  Alca- 
zarquivir,  and  in  the  extermination  of  the  flower  of 
the  nobility  of  Portugal.  The  body  of  the  King  had 
never  been  found,  and  the  Portuguese,  having  been 
subjugated  by  Philip,  who  had  claimed  the  vacant 
throne  on  the  ground  of  his  possessing  the  strongest 
hereditary  right  to  it,  entertained  the  fond  hope 
that  Don  Sebastian  was  still  alive  and  would  one 
day  make  his  appearance  to  resume  his  sceptre. 
Years  had  elapsed,  and  the  report  was  still  current 
among  the  ignorant  multitude  that  their  beloved 
and  heroic  Sovereign,  after  doing  penance  in  some 
cave  or  monastery  for  his  sins  and  for  the  blood 
imprudently  shed  in  his  ill-starred  enterprise  in 
Africa,  might  be  expected  to  return  at  any  time. 
Such  popular  delusions  have  not  been  of  unfrequent 
occurrence  in  other  nations  and  at  different  epochs, 
and  have  given  rise  to  serious  disturbances,  and 
even  civil  wars.  It  is  not  astonishing,  therefore, 


234  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

that  several  impostors  should  have  presented  them 
selves  to  make  the  best  of  a  persuasion  so  deeply 
rooted  in  the  hearts  of  the  Portuguese  people.  The 
most  remarkable  of  them  all,  and  the  only  one  who 
gave  some  uneasiness  to  Philip,  was  an  individual 
called  Gabriel  de  Espinosa,  commonly  known  in  his 
tory  and  in  fanciful  compositions  under  the  name  of 
the  pastry-cook  of  Madrigal,  which  is  a  small  town 
of  Old  Castile.  The  education  and  talents  of  this 
man  were  not,  it  is  said,  above  his  condition, 
although  there  was  something  noble  in  his  air,  and 
his  manners  were  not  destitute  of  a  certain  elegance. 
He  undoubtedly  must  have  been  very  bold,  and 
must  have  possessed  a  considerable  degree  of  natu 
ral  shrewdness,  to  have  adapted  himself  so  well  to 
the  part  which  he  assumed,  and  which,  owing  to  a 
concourse  of  circumstances,  instead  of  remaining  an 
obscure  village  farce,  rose  to  the  importance  of  an 
historical  event  of  sufficient  magnitude  to  be  re 
corded. 

The  author  of  this  imposture  was  a  Portuguese 
and  Austin  friar,  named  Miguel  de  Los  Santos,  who 
had  attained  high  preferments  in  the  Order  to 
which  he  belonged.  He  was  a  man  of  much  ambi 
tion,  of  restless  habits,  but  of  no  real  capacity. 
Having  been  one  of  the  most  violent  partisans  of 
the  Prior  of  Crato,  the  royal  bastard  who  had  been 
the  competitor  for  the  crown  of  Portugal  against 
Philip,  he  had  been  transported  from  that  Kingdom 
to  Castile,  where  he  had  been  appointed  Yicar  to  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  235 

Austin  nuns  of  Madrigal.  This  turbulent  friar, 
having  observed  that  there  was  in  Espinosa  a  strik 
ing  likeness  to  Don  Sebastian,  and  that  their  age 
would  have  corresponded  if  that  Prince  had  been 
alive,  persuaded  the  pastry-cook  to  personate  the 
King,  assuring  him  that  it  was  easy  to  pass  himself 
for  that  personage  upon  the  credulous  Portuguese, 
and  that  their  enthusiastic  attachment  would  open 
to  him  the  way  to  the  throne.  The  pastry-cook 
accepted  with  thoughtless  presumption  the  danger 
ous  part  which  was  presented  to  him,  and  prepared 
himself  for  it  under  the  tuition  of  the  friar,  who  had 
known  much  of  Don  Sebastian.  Among  the  nuns  of 
the  Austin  monastery,  of  which  he  was  vicar,  was  a 
natural  daughter  of  Don  John  of  Austria,  and,  as 
such,  a  niece  of  Philip,  whose  name  was  Dona  Anna, 
of  much  simplicity  of  mind,  and  of  very  little  voca 
tion  for  a  cloistral  life.  In  her  extreme  disgust  at 
the  condition  into  which  she  had  been  forced,  she 
used  to  request  her  confessor,  whenever  he  said 
mass,  to  pray  God  to  have  mercy  on  her,  and  put 
her  in  a  situation  less  repugnant  to  her  disposition, 
and  in  which  she  might  better  fulfill  her  duties  to 
Him.  It  struck  Don  Miguel  de  Los  Santos  that  this 
nun  might  be  made  a  useful  instrument  in  the  exe 
cution  of  his  plans,  and  he  gradually  filled  her  too 
easily  deceived  mind  with  the  pretended  revelations 
which,  whilst  officiating  at  the  altar,  he  had  received 
from  God  and  His  Holy  Apostles.  According  to 
those  revelations  the  highest  destinies  were  re- 


236  PHILIP   II.  OF   SPAIN. 

served  to  her.  She  was  to  become  the  spouse  of 
Don  Sebastian,  who  was  still  alive,  and  ascend  with 
him  the  throne  of  Portugal.  When  he  saw  Dona 
Anna  fully  convinced  of  the  truth  of  these  miraculous 
communications,  he  presented  to  her  the  pastry-cook, 
Espinosa,  as  the  King  of  Portugal.  The  ingenuous 
nun,  whose  weak  head  was  completely  turned,  sur 
rendered  her  heart  to  the  good-looking  impostor, 
and  there  commenced  an  amorous  correspondence 
between  her  and  him  whom  she  considered  as  her 
future  husband.  As  a  token  of  her  love,  she  gave 
him  all  the  money  she  could  command  and  her  rich 
est  jewels,  to  facilitate  the  recovery  of  his  Kingdom. 
In  her  letters  she  called  him  "your  Majesty,"  and 
the  friar  used  to  address  him  in  the  same  manner. 
This  intrigue  lasted  for  some  time,  during  which  this 
friar  caused  many  persons  to  come  from  Portugal 
who  recognized  Don  Sebastian  in  the  pastry-cook, 
until  this  affair  began  to  produce  some  considerable 
excitement  in  Portugal  and  Castile.  Gabriel  do 
Espinosa  was  soon  arrested,  and  the  letters  of  Dona 
Anna  brought  to  light.  As  members  of  the  Church 
were  implicated,  there  was,  as  usual,  a  tierce  con 
flict  of  jurisdiction  between  the  civil  and  ecclesias 
tical  Courts,  which  was  finally  set  at  rest  by  the  ap 
pointment  of  an  Apostolic  Judge  for  this  particular 
case.  Many  persons  were  thrown  into  prison,  some 
were  put  to  the  torture,  and  there  was  much  scan 
dal.  Philip,  on  this  occasion,  did  not  show  his  well- 
known  impassiveness.  For  some  reasons  which  it  is 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  237 

hard  to  guess  at,  he  took  an  extraordinary  interest 
in  this  affair — much  greater  than  its  circumstances 
seemed  to  call  for.  There  must  have  been  at  the 
bottom  of  it  something  more  serious  or  painful  than 
our  penetration  can  seize.  He  exacted  a  most 
minute  account  of  all  the  proceedings  and  incidents 
of  the  judicial  investigations,  as  they  progressed  ; 
and  some  of  the  facts  which  they  developed  elicited, 
to  the  astonishment  of  all  those  who  knew  Philip, 
the  manifestation  of  considerable  emotion  in  that 
cold  breast  which  had  always  been  thought  so  little 
susceptible  of  any.  It  is  a  circumstance  of  his  life 
involved  in  mystery,  like  several  others  which  re 
main  unexplained.  At  last  sentence  was  pronounced 
on  the  leading  personages  in  this  intrigue.  Gabriel 
de  Espinosa  was  decreed  to  be  put  in  a  sack  and 
dragged  to  the  place  of  execution  in  Madrigal,  where 
he  was  hung  and  quartered.  His  head  was  exposed 
in  an  iron  cage,  and  the  other  parts  of  his  body  were 
suspended  from  two  gibbets,  with  inscriptions,  at 
different  points  on  the  public  roads.  The  friar, 
Miguel  de  Los  Santos,  after  having  been  degraded 
by  the  judgment  of  an  ecclesiastical  Court,  was  de 
livered  to  the  civil  authority  and  hung  in  Madrid, 
on  the  19th  of  October,  1595.  Dona  Anna  of  Aus 
tria,  who,  one  would  suppose,  was  sufficiently  pun 
ished  by  the  mortification  of  having  been  a  dupe, 
by  the  painful  sense  of  the  ridicule  which  she  had 
incurred,  by  the  shame  of  having  been  the  cause  of 
so  much  scandal,  and  by  the  loss  of  her  trinkets  and 


238  PHILIP  n.  OF  SPAIN. 

other  valuables,  was  condemned  to  be  transported 
to  the  Monastery  of  Avila,  and  to  a  rigorous  con 
finement  of  four  years  in  her  cell,  during  which  she 
was  to  be  put  on  bread  and  water,  every  Friday,  as 
a  penitential  fast.  She  was  also  declared  forever 
incapable  of  any  ecclesiastical  dignity,  and  deprived 
of  the  title  of  "  Excellency/'  which  she  had  hitherto 
enjoyed.  The  silly  young  nun,  the  poor  deluded 
daughter  of  Don  John  of  Austria,  was  certainly 
entitled  to  be  treated  with  more  compassion  by  her 
royal  uncle.  Among  the  other  participators  in  this 
plot,  some  were  sentenced  to  be  exiled,  some  to 
work  on  the  King's  galleys,  and  several  to  be  whip 
ped  publicly.  Such  was  the  tragical  end  of  this 
political  and  amorous  conspiracy  between  a  nun,  a 
friar,  and  a  pastry-cook.  It  was  a  rich  theme  for  a 
comedy,  ready  found  for  the  prolific  pen  of  a  Lope 
de  Yega  ;  but  Philip,  who  was  not  prone  to  laughter 
steeped  it  in  blood.  His  great  and  magnanimous 
contemporary,  Henry  IY.  of  France,  if  anything  of 
the  kind  had  happened  in  his  Kingdom,  would  no 
doubt  have  treated  it  with  good-natured  contempt. 
He  would  probably  have  obtained  for  the  inflamma 
ble  damsel  a  dispensation  in  relation  to  her  vows  ; 
he  would  have  provided  her  with  a  suitable  husband, 
immured  the  intriguing  and  would-be  king-making 
priest  in  a  convent,  and  assigned  in  his  royal  kitch 
ens  a  place  to  the  ambitious  pastry-cook. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAItf.  239 


CHAPTER    VII. 

WE  have  already  mentioned  that  the  Spanish 
Cortes,  that  great  bulwark  of  Spanish  liberties,  had 
been  gradually  and  systematically  robbed  of  their 
pristine  importance,  first  by  Charles  Y.,  and  next  by 
Philip  II.  It  was  a  wheel,  however,  in  the  political 
machine,  which  was  still  kept  turning,  but  turning  to 
very  little  purpose.  The  circular  motion  was  seen, 
the  usual  noise  was  heard  as  it  revolved  on  its  axle, 
but  no  useful  result  was  produced.  Thus  under  the 
Roman  Emperors,  the  deliberations  of  the  Senate  and 
the  appointment  of  Consuls  were  still  kept  up  as  under 
the  expired  Republic,  but  the  substance  of  power 
had  departed  from  these  shadows.  It  was  Caesar 
who  decided  everything,  and  if  it  be  true  that  the 
Senate  was  once  called  upon  to  determine  by  its 
patrician  vote  which  was  the  most  appropriate 
sauce  for  an  extraordinary  turbot  offered  to  the 
master  of  the  world,  and  that  a  favorite  horse  was 
derisively  appointed  Consul  by  an  imperial  jester, 
nothing  could  more  forcibly  represent  the  changes 
which  had  taken  place  since  that  body  had  ruled  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth,  and  the  Consuls  had  rested 
their  feet  on  the  necks  of  kings.  The  Cortes,  it  is 


240  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

true,  had  not  come  yet  to  such  a  degree  of  degrada 
tion,  but  their  virility  had  been  emasculated.  They 
no  longer  possessed  any  procreative  faculties  ;  they 
could  no  longer  initiate  measures,  inaugurate  a  sys 
tem  of  external  and  internal  policy,  and  have  the 
destinies  of  the  nation  in  their  own  keeping.  They 
and  the  King  were  no  longer  the  Government ;  the 
King  was  the  State.  They  could  only  appear  before 
him  as  suitors  do  before  a  court  of  justice,  besides 
their  being  a  very  convenient  sort  of  assessors  to 
tax  their  constituents  to  the  very  marrow  of  their 
bones — reluctantly,  it  is  true,  and  not  without  remon 
strances,  but  still  to  the  ultimate  satisfaction  of  the 
King.  They  might  address  respectful  petitions 
which  might,  or  might  not,  be  granted,  and  that  was 
all.  They  expressed  the  desires  of  the  people  with 
out  being  able  to  enforce  them  ;  they  were  a  voice 
crying  in  the  wilderness,  but  nothing  else.  Well 
aware  that  the  Cortes  would  not  even  make  a  feeble 
effort  to  check  his  unlimited  authority,  Philip  seems 
to  have  liked  to  convene  them  and  to  have  them  at 
hand.  He  knew  that  they  were  the  brain  and  the 
heart  of  his  subjects,  and  he  was  fond  of  ascertain 
ing  from  them  what  there  was  in  that  brain  and  that 
heart.  Such  knowledge,  as  long  as  he  was  sure  that 
both  these  noble  organs  could  not  emancipate  them 
selves  from  the  pressure  of  his  iron  grasp,  might  be 
useful  to  him,  without  there  being  any  danger  to 
be  apprehended  from  the  source  from  which  it  was 
derived.  Thus  the  sessions  of  these  assemblies  be- 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  241 

came  more  frequent  under  Philip  than  they  had 
been  under  any  of  his  predecessors.  We  think  that 
a  succinct  analysis  of  their  proceedings  will  com 
plete  the  picture  which  we  have  attempted  to  draw 
of  the  reign  of  that  Prince,  as  they  are  the  reflection 
of  the  social  life  of  the  epoch,  and  will  give  some 
accurate  idea,  not  only  of  the  administration  of  the 
Kingdom  in  all  its  branches,  but  also  of  the  wants 
and  grievances,  the  aspirations  and  prejudices,  the 
customs  and  habits,  the  moral  and  intellectual  physi 
ognomy  of  the  Spanish  people  in  the  Sixteenth 
Century. 

We  have  already  referred  in  preceding  pages  to 
some  of  the  doings  of  the  Cortes  from  1558  to  1567. 
After  a  short  interruption  of  three  years,  they  met 
again  in  Cordova,  for  it  was  the  custom  of  the  Sov 
ereign  to  convene  them  from  time  to  time  in  differ 
ent  places.  One  of  the  first  acts  of  the  Cortes, 
when  they  assembled  at  that  city,  was  to  claim  that 
no  further  taxes,  general  or  particular,  be  levied 
without  being  granted  by  them.  They  reminded 
Philip  that  this  had  been  one  of  the  fundamental 
laws  of  the  Kingdom,  "  established  by  the  Cortes 
and  by  the  Kings,  his  predecessors,  of  glorious  mem 
ory,  such  as  Alonzo  and  others.7'  They  said  that  they 
knew  very  well  that  the  excuse  for  it  had  been  the 
alleged  necessity  to  provide  for  the  expenses  incur 
red  by  his  father  and  by  himself  in  those  long  wars 
which  had  been  undertaken  for  the  defence  of  Chris 
tendom,  but  that  this  justification  did  not  satisfy  the 

16 


242  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

people  in  their  pretension  that  the  observance  of  this 
ancient  right,  sanctioned  by  a  law  of  extreme  antiq 
uity,  be  faithfully  complied  with.  They  therefore 
supplicated  His  Majesty  that,  for  the  future,  no 
tribute  whatever  be  exacted  from  the  people, 
without  the  previous  assent  of  the  Cortes,  according 
to  immemorial  usage  ;  that  the  collecting  of  such  as 
were  illegally  demanded  be  stopped,  and  that  the 
people  be  exempt,  as  heretofore,  from  the  payment 
of  them,  "  because  other  means  might  be  sought  and 
found  to  assist  His  Majesty  without  doing  so  much 
damage  to  the  Kingdom.'7  This  petition  of  the 
Cortes  was  as  respectful  as  it  was  well  grounded. 
Philip  replied  that  the  necessities  which  had  com 
pelled  him  to  act  in  this  manner  had  not  only  not 
ceased,  but  were  even  increasing  every  day,  and 
therefore  that  he  could  not  but  continue  to  do  as  he 
had  done.  Formerly  no  king  of  Castile,  or  of  Aragon, 
or  of  any  other  Kingdom  in  Spain,  save  those  parts 
where  Moslem  despotism  was  enthroned,  would  have 
dared  to  send  this  arrogant  answer  to  his  Cortes,  or 
if  he  had,  he  would  soon  have  repented  of  his  pre 
sumption.  But  times  had  changed,  and  this  change 
had  begun  with  the  Austrian  dynasty.  The  Cortes 
were  no  longer  Sovereigns,  they  were  beggars  at 
the  foot  of  the  throne  ;  beggars  not  for  favors,  but 
for  what  was  legitimately  due  to  them,  and  had  been 
their  possession  by  the  prescriptive  sanction  of 
centuries. 

The  duties  on  all  sales  and  the  two-ninths  levied 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  243 

on  ecclesiastical  tithes  had  been  fixed  for  twenty 
years,  and  as  this  term  was  nearly  at  an  end,  it  was 
asked  that  it  should  be  renewed.  Constantly  antici 
pating  fresh  applications  for  money  on  the  part  of 
the  Government,  and,  consequently,  the  laying  of 
heavier  burdens  on  the  shoulders  of  the  people,  the 
Cortes  had  always  been  anxious  that  the  taxes 
be  determined  in  "an  unchangeable  manner  as 
long  as  possible,  and,  if  practicable,  forever/'  as 
experience,  they  contended,  had  demonstrated  that 
it  was  the  system  the  least  vexatious  and  oppress 
ive.  The  King  answered  that  the  term  of  years 
referred  to  had  not  expired,  and  that,  when  such 
should  be  the  case,  it  would  be  time  enough  to  take 
their  request  into  consideration. 

The  administration  of  justice,  the  attributes  of  the 
Courts  and  the  rules  by  which  they  were  governed, 
had  been  the  source  of  frequent  complaints  from 
preceding  Cortes,  wljo  had  unsuccessfully  presented 
numerous  plans  of  reforms.  The  Cortes  of  Cordova 
returned  to  the  same  subject  with  the  same  perti 
nacity.  They  proposed  that  there  should  be  an 
appeal  from  the  Council  of  the  Treasury  (Hacienda) 
to  the  Royal  Council,  which  inspired  more  general 
confidence  than  any  other  tribunal.  The  ever-in 
creasing  number  of  attorneys  at  law  and  of  other 
individuals  who  lived  by  fomenting  litigation  hav 
ing  become  a  serious  evil,  they  proposed  that  it  be 
restricted.  They  also  proposed  the  abolition  of 
many  offices  which  seemed  to  have  been  created  for 


244  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

no  other  purpose  than  to  make  the  ordinary  trans 
actions  of  life,  particularly  among  the  laboring  and 
mercantile  classes,  more  difficult,  more  expensive 
and  more  liable  to  confusion.  The  Judges  and 
Alcaldes  were  frequently  absent  from  the  districts 
where  they  should  have  resided  permanently.  The 
Cortes  begged  that  this  evil  be  remedied.  Some  of 
the  Judges  were  in  the  habit  of  holding  court  during 
the  harvest  season,  much  to  the  inconvenience  of 
the  peasantry.  The  Cortes  desired  that  it  should 
be  otherwise.  They  denounced  the  long  and  inter 
minable  writings  and  formalities  by  which  notaries 
and  other  public  officers  who  lived  by  the  exercise 
of  the  quill  contrived  to  vex  and  plunder  the  peo 
ple,  and  they  pointed  out  multifarious  reforms  which 
might  be  beneficially  introduced  in  the  trial  of  civil 
and  criminal  cases.  The  abuses  complained  of  were 
so  gross,  that  one  would  have  supposed  that  the 
dullest  eye  would  have  seen  them  and  taken 
offence  at  these  sores  of  the  social  body.  But 
to  most  of  these  petitions  Philip  returned  the 
answer,  that  it  was  "not  expedient  to  make  any 
changes,"  or  that  he  would  u  look  into  the  subject," 
or  that  he  would  "  reflect  and  do  what  was  right." 

In  conformity  with  the  notions  of  political  econo 
my  prevailing  at  the  time,  the  Cortes  insisted  on 
the  necessity  of  enforcing  strictly  the  prohibition 
of  exporting  corn  and  those  animals  whose  flesh  is 
used  as  food — what  they  designated  as  "  bread  and 
meat."  The  impropriety  of  fixing  the  market  price 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  245 

of  corn  was  generally  felt,  and  yet  the  only  remedy 
which  they  found  for  it  was  to  change  the  rate  of 
the  tariff,  thus  modifying  the  effect  of  an  error  in 
stead  of  attacking  it  in  its  source.  The  Cortes  of 
Cordova  reiterated  the  complaints  of  former  ones, 
that  the  sale  of  so  many  titles  of  nobility,  which 
exempted  their  purchasers  from  tax-paying,  was  ex 
tremely  unjust  and  injurious  to  the  poor  and  to  all 
those  who  remained  in  the  Plebeian  class,  because 
their  contribution  to  the  Treasury  of  the  State  had 
to  be  raised  in  proportion  to  the  increase  of  the 
number  of  those  who  were  exempt  from  such  a 
charge.  Nothing  could  be  better  founded  than  this 
appeal  to  the  sense  of  justice  which  ought  to  have 
existed  in  the  Royal  breast.  But  Philip  replied  : 
"That  he  had  used  this  expedient,  among  others,  to 
relieve  his  necessities  ;  that  he  could  not  do  other 
wise  ;  and  that,  in  so  doing,  he  had  only  exercised 
legitimately  one  of  his  prerogatives."  When  they 
remonstrated  against  the  alienation  of  villages  and 
rural  estates  belonging  to  the  Crown,  together  with 
the  exemption  from  taxation  and  other  privileges 
appertaining  to  that  sort  of  alienated  property,  he 
answered  :  u  That  he  had  made  those  sales  for  just 
and  valid  reasons  ;  but  that,  in  the  future,  he  would 
see  that  nothing  be  done  in  matters  of  this  kind 
which  should  not  be  required  by  the  circumstances 
of  the  case."  Such  was  the  constant  evasiveness  of 
his  replies.  It  is  astonishing  that  it  did  not  tire  out 
the  patience  of  the  Cortes,  and  did  not  induce  them 


246  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

to  put  an  end  at  once  to  deliberations  and  petitions 
which  had  become,  with  a  face  of  apparent  solem 
nity,  an  absolute  and  positive  farce  in  reality.  They 
were  probably  afraid  of  offending  the  Monarch  if 
they  ceased  to  keep  up  this  semblance  of  popular 
representation. 

We  have  stated  in  the  course  of  this  review  of 
Philip's  reign,  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of  appropriat 
ing  to  himself  the  gold  and  silver  which  came  from 
America  for  the  account  of  individuals.  At  different 
epochs  in  the  past,  the  Cortes  had  clamored  against 
these  royal  outrages.  A  discontinuance  of  this 
practice  had  been  promised  by  the  King,  but  it 
seems  that  the  present  Cortes  had  a  strong  suspicion, 
if  not  actual  proof,  that  this  abuse  was  still  in  exist 
ence,  for  they  returned  to  the  subject  about  which 
their  predecessors  had  expressed  their  disapproba 
tion,  and  dilated  on  the  injury  which  such  a  high 
handed  stretch  of  authority  inflicted  on  the  com 
merce  and  prosperity  of  the  Kingdom.  On  this 
question  the  King  condescended  to  be  more  explicit 
than  usual.  He  assured  the  Cortes  that  he  had 
ceased  to  take  the  gold  or  silver  referred  to,  and 
would  continue  to  abstain  from  applying  it  to  the 
wants  of  the  State. 

It  had  been  found  that,  wherever  the  King  re 
paired  with  the  numerous  and  magnificent  court  by 
which  he  was  always  followed,  the  price  of  lodgings 
rose  to  a  fabulous  price.  This  was  ruinous  for  those 
who  were  compelled  to  be  in  attendance  upon  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  247 

Sovereign  or  his  Ministers,  for  the  transaction  of 
public  or  private  business.  The  Cortes  begged  his 
Majesty  to  form  a  commission  composed  of  two  or 
three  of  those  who  let  out  lodgings,  and  of  as  many 
other  persons  to  be  appointed  by  the  Municipal 
Council  of  the  city,  town  or  place  in  which  his  Maj 
esty  should  happen  to  reside,  with  instructions  to 
establish  a  tariff  for  rooms  and  habitations,  setting 
forth  the  precise  price  for  each  one,  and  prescribing 
a  penalty  for  the  violation  of  such  regulations.  This 
seemed  equitable  enough,  and  one  would  have  sup 
posed  that  it  was,  after  all,  a  point  on  which  there 
would  have  been  no  objection  to  gratify  the  national 
will ;  but  the  King  did  not  think  proper  to  depart, 
on  this  occasion,  from  the  habit  of  giving  vague  and 
dilatory  answers.  He  contented  himself  with  in 
forming  the  Cortes  that  "  the  subject  would  be  dis 
cussed  in  his  Council.'7 

The  cities  and  towns  of  Spain,  whenever  they 
were  called  upon  by  the  Sovereign  to  assist  him  in 
his  wars,  had  enjoyed  the  prescriptive  right  of  ap 
pointing  the  commanders  of  the  troops  which  they 
furnished  ready  equipped.  In  the  last  war  against 
the  Moors  of  Granada  Philip  had  usurped  that 
ancient  right,  of  the  violation  of  which  the  Cortes 
respectfully  complained.  They  begged  that  the 
King  be  pleased  to  leave  it  as  it  stood  before.  He 
admitted  for  once  the  justice  of  their  petition,  and 
promised  that  "he  would  act  accordingly  in  the 
future."  He  added  that,  if  he  had  acted  differently 


248  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

in  the  war  against  the  Moors,  it  was  on  account  of 
the  peculiarity  of  the  service  which  the  cities  and 
towns  had  been  invited  to  render  on  that  occasion. 
What  that  peculiarity  was  does  not  appear,  nor  is  it 
possible  to  ascertain  why  there  was  a  greater  neces 
sity  for  the  King  to  appoint  in  this  war  than  in 
any  other  the  captains  of  companies  or  other  com 
manders. 

Some  of  the  petitions  of  the  Cortes  of  Cordova 
give  a  sad  idea  of  the  morals,  customs  and  habits  of 
the  epoch.  They  dwelt,  like  their  predecessors,  on 
the  necessity  of  not  permitting  any  male  visitants, 
either  of  the  clergy  or  laity,  to  penetrate  into  the 
interior  of  the  convents  or  monasteries  of  female 
recluses,  and  recommended  that  the  visits  paid  to 
these  institutions  be  confined  to  the  common  recep 
tion  parlor,  or  some  other  place  where  iron  grates 
intervened  between  the  visitant  and  the  visited.  It 
must  have  been  exceedingly  difficult  to  eradicate  the 
practice  which  is  thus  denounced,  because  it  had 
been,  for  years  past,  the  constant  theme  of  the  com 
plaints  of  the  Cortes,  and  the  disorders  which  pre 
vailed  in  many  of  those  monastic  establishments 
must  have  been  very  great,  since  we  find  that  Philip 
was  obliged  to  send  instructions  to  his  Corregidores* 
to  investigate,  "  with  secrecy,  adroitness  and  dis 
simulation/'  the  excesses  which  were  pointed  out  to 
him,  and  which  scandalized  the  people  in  conse- 

*  A  Magistrate  in  Spain.     It  is  derived  from  the  word  correct,  or  cas 
tigate. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  249 

quence  of  the  bad  example  presented  by  so  many 
persons  consecrated  to  the  worship  of  God.  "  You 
shall  report  to  me  on  this  subject,"  he  said,  uin 
order  that  these  delinquencies  be  punished  accord 
ing  to  law."  It  seems  that  the  policemen  and  muni 
cipal  guards  who  patrolled  the  cities  and  towns  of 
Spain  to  maintain  order  were  themselves  the  cause 
of  frightful  disorders  ;  for,  under  various  pretexts, 
they  entered  the  houses  of  honest  citizens,  carried 
away  their  wives  and  daughters,  and  made  them  the 
victims  of  their  lust.  The  Cortes  denounced  to  the 
King  and  deplored  the  habitual  perpetration  of  these 
nefarious  deeds,  and  begged  that  the  policemen  and 
municipal  guards  be  prohibited  from  entering  at 
night  any  other  houses  than  such  as  were  occupied 
by  women  of  the  town  and  concubines.  The  regu 
lations  applicable  to  prostitutes  which  Philip  pub 
lished  in  1571,  are  a  striking  exemplification  of  the 
depraved  laxity  of  public  morals  at  the  time.  This 
Royal  ordinance  is  composed  of  fourteen  articles.* 
They  contain  details  which,  curiously  characteristic 
as  they  are,  it  is  impossible  to  relate  without  doing 
violence  to  decency.  We  shall  only  mention  the 
twelfth,  which  ordered  prostitutes  to  adopt  a  certain 
costume  by  which  they  were  distinguished  from 
honest  women.  They  were  prohibited  from  using 
cloaks,  bonnets,  gloves  and  light  shoes,  and  had  to 
wear  a  short  yellow  mantilla  or  mantle,  under  the 

*  Archives  of  Simancas. 


250  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

penalty  of  three  hundred  maravedis,*  and  of  losing 
by  confiscation  any  article  of  their  dress  which 
should  happen  to  be  different  from  the  one  pre 
scribed. 

Some  petitions,  in  relation  to  the  study  of  medi 
cine  and  surgery,  are  an  evidence  of  the  little 
progress  which  these  two  sciences  had  made  in 
Spain.  The  Cortes  expressed  the  wish  that  no  stu 
dent  of  medicine  should  graduate  before  having 
previously  obtained  the  degree  of  bachelorship  in 
astrology,  "because/'  they  said,  " practitioners, 
from  the  want  of  a  proper  knowledge  of  the  critical 
days  and  of  the  movements  of  the  planets,  fail  to 
cure  many  patients."  The  Cortes  remonstrated 
against  the  naturalization  of  foreigners  ;  they  soli 
cited  that  the  Kingdom  be  supplied  with  arms,  and 
insisted  on  the  policy  of  renewing  the  breed  of 
horses,  as  the  race  of  those  noble  animals,  for  which 
Spain  had  been  so  famous,  was  rapidly  deterio 
rating.  Many  other  points  of  internal  administra 
tion  did  not  escape  their  attention.  The  number  of 
petitions  which  they  presented  amounted  in  all  to 
ninety-one,  of  which  but  very  few  were  granted, 
and  even  three  years  elapsed  before  these  few  be 
gan  to  be  acted  upon. 

In  the  year  1573,  the  Cortes  met  in  Madrid. 
They  reproduced  the  complaints  of  their  predeces 
sors  in  those  matters  which  had  been  so  frequently 

*  A  small  copper  coin,  equal  to  three-tenths  of  a  cent,  American  money, 
or  a  little  less  than  a  farthing  sterling. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  251 

submitted  to  the  consideration  of  Philip,  and 
pressed  upon  him  the  urgent  necessity  of  such 
reforms.  To  a  few  of  these  petitions  the  King 
vouchsafed  a  favorable  answer,  but  to  the  great 
majority  of  them  he  replied  as  usual,  that  "he 
would  see  what  was  proper  to  be  done,"  or  that 
he  would  "  examine  into  it,"  or  that  he  would  "  con 
fer  about  it  in  his  Council."  These  Cortes  of 
Madrid  represented  to  the  King  that  many  members 
of  that  assembly  were  public  officers,  and  therefore 
in  his  pay  as  such  ;  that  this  circumstance  prevented 
such  deputies  from  possessing  that  degree  of  liberty 
which  was  necessary  to  propose  such  measures  and 
give  such  votes  as  the  interests  and  welfare  of  the 
Kingdom  required  ;  and  besides,  that  there  was  "  a 
grave  inconvenience"  resulting  from  this  state  of 
things,  which  was,  that  such  members  were  sus 
pected  by  the  rest  of  their  colleagues,  and  that  it 
destroyed  the  general  harmony  and  confidence 
which  ought  to  exist  among  them.  They,  in  conclu 
sion,  supplicated  his  Majesty  that  persons  hold 
ing  office  under  the  Crown,  or  being  in  the  en 
joyment  of  any  pensions  or  favors  from  it,  be  not 
eligible  to  their  body.  Questions  of  this  kind  have 
been  repeatedly  agitated  in  modern  times  in  various 
countries  where  representative  Governments  have 
been  established.  This  petition,  addressed  to  such 
a  man  as  Philip,  shows  the  spirit  of  independence 
which  was  still  lurking  in  the  Cortes,  notwithstand 
ing  the  curtailment  of  their  powers,  the  diminution 


252  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

of  their  importance,  and,  in  fact,  the  state  of  servi 
tude  to  which  they  had  been  reduced.  They  were 
even  so  bold  as  to  make  observations  on  the  rewards 
which  the  King  granted  to  those  who  served  his 
personal  interests  in  that  assembly,  and  designated 
several  recent  instances  of  these  improper  remu 
nerations  and  of  this  corrupting  influence.  The 
nature  of  this  petition  must  have  been  disagreeably 
new  to  Philip.  It  had  an  air  of  possible  resistance 
to  his  authority  and  of  condemnation  of  his  acts. 
There  was  a  ring  of  the  true  metal  in  it  which  must 
have  grated  harshly  on  the  despot's  ears.  He  re 
solved  that  the  odious  sound  should  not  be  repeated, 
that  the  voice  of  something  like  that  of  freedom 
should  not  be  heard  again,  and  therefore  his  an 
swer,  on  this  occasion,  ceased  to  be  evasive.  It 
was  abrupt,  short  and  categorical.  We  can  almost 
fancy  that  we  hear  the  peremptory  tone  of  stern 
reprobation  with  which  it  was  uttered.*  "  I  answer 
you,"  said  the  King,  "  that  it  is  not  proper  to  make 
any  change  in  this  matter." 

The  prevailing  opinion  in  Spain  had  been,  for  a 
long  time,  that  the  diminution  of  the  revenues  of  the 
Kingdom  and  that  its  general  impoverishment  were 
due  to  the  immense  quantity  of  lands  held  in  mortmain 
by  the  Clergy,  and  to  the  vast  accumulation  of  un 
productive  and  uncirculating  wealth  which  was 
locked  up  in  their  monasteries  and  other  religious 

*  A  eeto  vos  respondemos  que  no  conviene  liacer  en  ello  novedad. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  253 

establishments.  Those  corporations  never  parted 
with  anything,  and  their  acquisitions  were  incessant. 
The  enormous  leech  always  sucked,  but  never  dis 
gorged.  In  conformity  with  the  express  instruc 
tions  of  their  constituents,  the  Cortes  had  clamored 
against  this  evil.  It  had  been  a  fruitful  theme  for 
the  complaints  of  the  Cortes  of  Valladolid,  in  1517 
and  1523,  of  the  Cortes  of  Segovia  in  1532,  of 
the  Cortes  of  Madrid  in  1534  and  1563.  Those  re 
monstrances  were  repeated  in  1573.  It  certainly 
was  the  undoubted  and  settled  expression  of  the 
national  will,  as  evidenced  by  the  frequency,  the 
unanimity  and  pertinacity  with  which  it  was  con 
veyed  to  the  throne.  But  Philip  returned  the  in 
variable  answer  which  he  had  often  given  on  that 
subject:  "It  is  not  expedient  that  there  be  any 
change."  The  same  prayer  ascended  from  year  to 
year  from  the  heart  of  the  nation,  and  it  met,  every 
time,  the  same  frigid  and  unrelenting  denial. 

Notwithstanding  the  proverbial  reputation  of  the 
Castilians  for  sobriety  of  habits,  extravagance  in 
dress  and  in  the  furniture  of  houses  had  become  so 
great,  that  the  Cortes  had  frequently  thought  them 
selves  under  the  obligation  to  propose  to  the  King 
measures  for  its  repression,  although  the  experience 
of  ages  had  demonstrated  the  futility  of  sumptuary 
laws.  It  appears  that  women,  when  they  married, 
used  to  spend  for  their  bridal  clothes  and  jewels  as 
much  as  their  dowry  was  worth.  The  Cortes  peti 
tioned  the  King  to  prohibit  parents  from  giving  to 


254  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

their  daughters  in  trinkets  and  dress  more  than 
one-twentieth  part  of  the  value  of  their  dowry,  and 
notaries  from  framing  any  marriage  contract  with 
out  inserting  that  stipulation  under  the  sanctity  of 
an  oath.  They  also  petitioned  that  no  article  of 
wood  or  of  copper,  or  of  any  other  metal,  be  gilded 
or  plated,  except  such  as  were  destined  to  divine 
worship,  to  the  embellishment  of  arms  or  accoutre 
ments  for  horses,  and  that  the  violation  of  this  ordi 
nance  be  visited  with  appropriate  penalties.  The 
reason  which  they  gave  for  it  was,  that,  in  conse 
quence  of  such  follies,  the  Kingdom  was,  for  the 
present,  considerably  drained  of  all  the  gold  and 
silver  "  with  which  it  had  been  so  abundantly  sup 
plied  by  God." 

There  had  been  already,  in  former  times,  several 
royal  ordinances  intended  for  the  repression  of  the 
excessive  luxury  which  women  displayed  in  their 
apparel,  but  they  had  remained  dead  letters,  or 
rather  had  been  like  those  withered  leaves  which  no 
one  cares  for,  and  which  are  left  to  be  the  sport  of 
the  wind.  The  Cortes  attributed  the  non-observ 
ance  of  those  regulations  to  the  ingenuity  of  the 
tailors  and  other  dressmakers,  who  daily  invented 
fashions  and  ornaments,  and  threw  so  many  irre 
sistible  temptations  in  the  way  of  the  foolish  and 
frivolous.  They  said  to  the  King  that  a  large  num 
ber  of  men  were  engaged  in  a  kind  of  occupation 
which  was  fit  only  for  females,  instead  of  serving 
his  Majesty  in  his  wars,  or  of  tilling  the  ground,  or 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  255 

raising  cattle,  or  sheep,  or  other  useful  animals,  in 
those  places  where  they  were  born  ;  and  that  they 
preferred  repairing  to  the  large  cities  or  towns, 
where  they  lived  by  plying  the  needle,  and  led  a 
life  of  much  greater  ease  and  comfort  than  they  could 
otherwise  have  done,  had  they  remained  at  their 
respective  rural  homes,  and  performed  the  hard  but 
beneficial  and  praiseworthy  labor  to  which  they  had 
been  originally  destined.  This  petition,  although  it 
met  with  favor  from  the  King,  who  subsequently  is 
sued  a  pragmatic  in  conformity  with  its  spirit,  had  no 
more  effect  in  curing  the  evil  complained  of,  than  if  it 
had  been  aimed  at  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  sea.  The 
intentions  of  the  Cortes  were  undoubtedly  very  good, 
but  they  were  not  practical.  The  morals  of  a  nation 
never  were  suddenly  established  or  purified  by  a 
mere  legislative  decree  enforced  by  executive  au 
thority.  Whether  good  or  bad,  whether  in  their 
primitive  formation,  or  in  their  progressive  decay, 
or  under  the  reaction  of  reform,  they  are  slowly 
generated  by  causes  and  circumstances  in  which  the 
folly  or  wisdom  of  man  may  have  a  considerable 
share,  but  which  work,  nevertheless,  in  conformity 
with  the  final  and  inflexible  laws  of  nature.  In  such 
matters,  a  pure  religion,  and  a  sound  domestic  edu 
cation,  strengthened  by  conspicuous  example  at  the 
apex  of  the  social  pyramid,  are  the  most  powerful 
legislators  to  be  relied  on,  when  they  have  once  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  the  mastery. 

Coaches  had  been  lately  introduced  into  Spain, 


256  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

and  had  become  so  much  in  vogue,  that  all  families 
must  set  up  one,  under  the  penalty  of  being  no 
bodies.  The  consequence  was,  that  those  who  had 
but  a  small  fortune,  or  even  hardly  any  at  all,  made 
ruinous  sacrifices  to  keep  up  what  they  considered 
an  evidence  of  social  position  and  a  recommendation 
to  respectful  consideration.  The  Cortes  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  this  kind  of  luxury  was  not  only 
detrimental  to  individuals,  but  injurious  also  to  the 
State,  because  it  withdrew  from  agricultural  labor 
the  mules  who  were  taken  for  so  many  coaches,  and 
raised  considerably  the  price  of  these  animals,  who 
were  now  bred  in  preference  to  horses,  in  conse 
quence  of  which  the  acquisition  of  good  horseman 
ship  would  be  neglected.  They  therefore  supplica 
ted  the  King  that,  considering  "  these  inconvenien 
ces  and  others  not  mentioned,"  and  considering  that, 
"for  so  many  years,  Spain  had  done  very  well 
without  coaches,"  His  Majesty  be  pleased  to  pro 
hibit  the  use  of  this  new  invention.  The  Monarch 
replied  that  "the  subject  had  been  already  under 
advisement,  and  that  he  would  provide  for  it  in  the 
way  most  fit  and  proper." 

These  Cortes,  like  tlie  preceding  ones,  lamented 
the  progressive  deterioration  of  the  breed  of  horses, 
as  well  as  the  notable  diminution  of  those  animals  in 
the  Kingdom  ;  and,  among  the  measures  which  they 
proposed  to  remedy  this  evil,  was  the  exempting  of 
those  who  were  bound  when  called  upon  in  case  of 
danger  to  do  military  service  with  horse  and  arms, 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  257 

from  the  performance  of  that  feudal  duty,  on  condition 
that  they  should  keep  as  many  as  six  mares.  It  was 
thought  of  the  utmost  importance,  not  only  to  encour 
age  the  raising  of  horses,  but  also  the  study  of  equita 
tion,  and  particularly  the  knowledge  and  use  of  a  cer 
tain  kind  of  horsemanship  called  La  gineta  ;  and  the 
Cortes  of  Madrid,  thinking  that  the  suppression  of 
bull-fights  ordered  some  years  before  according  to 
the  wish  of  their  predecessors,  had  been  injurious 
to  the  attainment  of  these  objects,  petitioned  for  the 
re-establishment  of  that  old  and  favorite  amusement 
"as  soon  as  it  could  be  done."  Never  was  a  peti 
tion  so  graciously  received  by  the  King.  He  re 
plied  that  "  he  would  instruct  his  Council  to  take 
the  subject  of  their  request  into  speedy  considera 
tion,  and  not  to  lose  sight  of  it  until  justice  had  been 
done  to  its  merits."  The  wish  of  the  Cortes  was 
soon  gratified,  but  it  is  not  a  little  singular  that, 
before  complying  with  it,  Philip  should  have  deemed 
it  expedient  to  consult  the  Holy  See.  It  was  hardly 
to  be  expected  that  the  Pope  should  have  been 
asked  permission  for  the  restoration  of  the  national 
entertainment  of  bull-fights  in  Spain, 

Many  salutary  reforms  were  pointed  out  as  proper 
to  be  made  in  the  Department  of  Justice,  particularly 
with  a  view  to  avoid  the  long  delays,  heavy  costs 
and  other  vexations  so  well  known  to  litigants  ;  for 
most  of  the  tribunals  of  Spain  had  the  unenviable 
reputation  of  the  English  Chancery,  in  which  it  is 
not  uncommon  for  suits  to  outlive  many  generations.. 
17 


258  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

The  Cortes  begged  that  new  courts  be  established 
in  certain  localities  for  the  convenience  of  the  pop 
ulation,  and  that  no  one  be  sued  out  of  the  district 
in  which  he  resided.  They  turned  also  their  atten 
tion  to  public  education,  and,  among  other  things, 
prayed  that  a  faculty  of  law  be  established  in  the 
University  of  Alcala,  with  the  same  privileges  and 
advantages  possessed  by  similar  institutions  in  Sal 
amanca,  Valladolid,  and  Bologna  in  Italy.  The 
answer  of  the  King  on  this  matter  was,  "  that  he 
would  look  into  it  and  do  what  would  be  proper." 
The  Cortes  recommended  that  each  town  and  village 
be  required  to  put  up  at  the  end,  or  head,  as  it 
might  happen,  of  every  road  terminating  or  origin 
ating  within  their  precincts,  or  at  every  cross-road, 
or  at  every  point  where  a  road  forked,  in  the  dis 
trict  within  which  they  were  situated,  some  indica 
tion  by  which  travelers  would  be  guided  as  to  the 
direction  they  might  wish  to  take,  be  it  in  the  shape 
of  wooden  crosses,  stone  posts,  or  sheets  of  lead.  It 
was  a  measure  which  would  have  cost  little,  and  the 
utility  of  which  could  not  be  questioned.  One 
would  hardly  have  anticipated  that  such  a  sugges 
tion  could  fail  to  be  readily  adopted.  Not  so  with 
Philip,  who  replied  that  "  he  would  think  on  it,"  and 
as  usual  with  him  in  most  cases  when  any  sort  of 
internal  improvement  was  recommended  by  the 
Cortes,  he  dismissed  it  forever  from  his  mind. 

The  Cortes  met  again  at  Madrid  in  1576,  and 
remained  in  session  until  1578,  a  period  sufficiently 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  259 

long,  one  would  suppose,  to  do  a  world  of  business. 
They  elaborated  seventy- three  petitions.  In  the 
first  which  they  presented  to  the  King  they  remon 
strated,  as  the  Cortes  of  Cordova  had  done  in  1570, 
against  the  illegal  practice  of  levying  taxes  on  the 
people  which  had  not  been  previously  granted  by 
their  Representatives,  and  they  begged  that  all  the 
royal  ordinances  on  that  subject  which  had  been 
issued  in  violation  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  the 
Kingdom  be  revoked.  In  the  second,  they  com 
plained  like  their  predecessors,  six  years  before,  of 
the  wasteful  alienation  of  the  domains  of  the  Crown 
which  was  still  going  on  to  meet  the  wants  of  the 
King.  But  spendthrifts  have  always  paid  very  lit 
tle  attention  to  the  monitions  of  their  friends  or 
well-wishers,  and  Philip  was  not  an  exception.  In 
the  third  petition,  the  Cortes  desired  the  Monarch, 
if  his  multifarious  and  laborious  occupations  pre 
vented  him  from  paying  occasional  and  personal 
visits  to  the  different  parts  of  his  Kingdom,  from 
seeing  with  his  own  eyes  its  condition,  and  from 
ascertaining  the  wants  of  his  subjects,  to  be  pleased 
to  have  himself  represented  by  delegates  of  his  au 
thority,  whose  ministry  should  be  to  investigate  the 
manner  in  which  public  officers  performed  their 
functions  in  the  provinces,  and  punish  those  who 
should  happen  to  fail  in  the  discharge  of  their  duties. 
Among  other  abuses  was  the  appointment  for  life 
to  certain  municipal  officers,  and  sometimes  with  a 
right  of  transmission  to  the  heirs  of  the  incumbents. 


260  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

in  return  for  a  sum  of  money  paid  to  the  Crown. 
The  Cortes  complained  of  the  injury  to  the  public 
which  resulted  from  such  a  practice,  and  prayed 
that  those  officers  be  elected  annually  as  formerly. 
They  also  clamored,  as  in  a  preceding  session, 
against  the  use  of  coaches,  and  solicited  their  pro 
hibition,  on  the  ground  "  that  they  were  an  occasion 
for  display,  and  not  for  exercise.'7  The  King  viewed 
the  subject  in  the  same  light,  and,  in  order  to  dimin 
ish  the  number  of  these  objects  of  luxury,  decreed 
that  no  one  should  sport  a  coach  or  carriage  in 
cities,  or  within  a  radius  of  five  leagues  around 
them,  "  without  driving  it  with  four  horses  owned 
by  himself,  and  not  hired,  or  borrowed/'  under  the 
penalty  of  forfeiting  the  carriages  and  horses,  with 
their  harness  and  other  appendages. 

The  Cortes  felt  the  importance  of  providing  the 
youths  who  destined  themselves  to  the  priesthood, 
with  the  means  of  acquiring  a  moral  and  religious 
education,  and  petitioned  for  the  establishment  of 
seminaries  and  schools  of  divinity  in  connection 
with  metropolitan  churches  and  cathedrals,  as  de 
creed  by  the  Council  of  Trent.  They  recommended 
that  young  men,  however  brilliant  the  success  in 
their  studies  might  have  been  at  the  universities, 
and  however  great  their  legal  attainments,  should 
not  be  appointed  to  the  highest  offices  of  the  magis 
tracy,  without  their  having  previously  given  proofs 
of  their  discretion  and  morality,  and  without  their 
having  shown  that  they  knew  how  to  make  a  good 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  261 

use  of  their  science  and  a  practical  application  of  it  in 
the  inferior  tribunals.     They  were  still  more  scru 
pulously  exacting  as  to  the  qualifications  of  the  ec 
clesiastical  judges.    One  single  fact  will  give  an  idea 
of  the  extent  of  the  encroachments  which  the  cleri 
cal    authorities    had   been   gradually  permitted  to 
make  over  the  jurisdiction  of  the  secular.     For  in 
stance,  they  had  fallen  into  the  monstrous  habit  of 
fulminating    excommunication   against   individuals, 
even  for  petty  debts  when  not  paid.      It  was   at 
that  epoch  a  terrible  weapon,  of  which  it  is  not  easy 
in  our  age  to  realize  the    power.      In  vain  those 
wretches    pleaded  their  extreme  poverty,  in  vain 
they  sued  for  delay  and  offered  sufficient  security  for 
ultimate  payment ;  they  were  inexorably  excluded 
from  the  Church,  and  deprived  of  all  its  rights  and 
privileges — a  penalty  which,  at  that  time  in  Spain, 
was  as  serious  a  one  as  could  be  inflicted,  short  of 
death.     It  is  probable  that  the  Clergy,  as  a  plea  for 
their  interfering  in  such  matters,  assumed  that  it 
was  sinful  to  get  in  debt.     But  the  Cortes  remon 
strated  strongly  against  this  enormous  abuse.    They 
begged  that  excommunication  be  no  longer  permit 
ted  in  such  cases,  and  that  debtors  be  cited  to  ap 
pear  only  before  the  civil  courts.     They  proposed 
that  certain  magistrates  and  other  officials  connected 
with  the  administration  of  justice  be  better  paid, 
and  be  given  salaries  which  would  enable  them  to  live 
with  the  decorum  required  by  their  station  ;   that 
the  municipal  officers  of  those  cities  and  towns  which 


262  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

sent  representatives  to  the  Cortes  be  not  permitted 
to  exercise  any  of  the  mechanical  arts,  or  engage  in 
any  trade  or  gainful  pursuit,  on  account  of  which 
their  persons  would  be  discredited  ;  that  the  sala 
ries  of  the  members  of  the  Cortes  who  represented 
cities  be  not  paid  by  those  cities  only  which  elected 
them,  but  by  the  whole  province,  whose  interests 
they  also  represented  ;  and  that  no  one  be  privi 
leged  to  engross  two  incompatible  offices  or  em 
ployments.  The  political  wisdom  of  these  proposi 
tions  was  apparent,  but  Philip  received  them  with 
his  usual  indifference.  There  was  in  thatjtnan  an 
unconquerable  force  of  inertia. 

The  Cortes  had  seen  with  much  displeasure  that 
the  nobles  were  gradually  less  addicted  to  those 
military  exercises  and  that  wholesome  art  of  horse 
manship  which  had  made  them  agile,  robust  and 
adroit,  and  which  Tiad  so  eminently  qualified  them  for 
the  hardships  and  perils  of  war.  In  order  to  put  a 
stop  to  this  growing  effeminacy,  the  Cortes  thought 
that  it  was  expedient  to  revive  the  ancient  spirit  of 
the  nobles  by  re-establishing,  with  a  suitable  degree 
of  splendor,  those  exciting  entertainments  in  which 
the  patrician  order  used  to  take  the  lead  and  make 
itself  conspicuous  by  its  achievements.  Thus  it  had 
been  customary  for  Grandees  and  men  of  gentle 
blood  to  be  members  of  the  associations  for  bull 
fights,  or  to  be  their  patrons  and  sponsors.  They 
also  entered  the  arena  as  combatants,  and  performed 
the  parts  which  are  now  left  to  professional  and 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  263 

salaried  artists.  It  was  not  then  uncommon  for  the 
proudest  Grandee  to  excite  the  frantic  applause  of 
the  multitude  by  appearing  sword  in  hand  in  front 
of  the  enraged  bull,  and  killing  him  with  as  much 
skill  as  bravery.  For  the  reasons  which  we  have 
alleged,  the  Cortes  of  1570  and  1573  had  petitioned 
for  the  restoration  of  that  national  amusement,  and 
those  of  1576  had  proposed  that  the  municipalities 
of  all  those  towns  which  were  of  sufficient  import 
ance  to  pretend  to  having  bull- fights,  should  at  their 
expense  have  a  place  prepared  for  such  exhibitions  ; 
that  they  should  supply  with  lances  such  gentlemen 
as  might  desire  to  go  through  a  preliminary  course 
of  practice  ;  and  that  they  should  furnish  the  music, 
whenever  those  entertainments  were  given  to  the 
public.  It  was  almost  the  only  petition  to  which 
the  King  granted  his  approbation  with  promptitude 
and  in  explicit  terms.  He  answered  the  Cortes 
that,  in  this  matter,  "  it  should  be  done  forthwith  as 
they  desired."  As  to  the  other  propositions,  he 
met  them  in  his  accustomed  style  of :  "We  shall 
see,''  or,  uwe  shall  reflect," or,  "we shall  deliberate 
in  council." 

Hardly  had  the  Cortes  closed  their  session  on  the 
31st  of  December,  1578,  when  their  successors  met 
in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1579,  and  continued 
their  labors  until  1582.  They  complained  that  so 
many  petitions  presented  by  their  predecessors  had 
remained  unattended  to,  and  they  prayed  that  the 
King  should  henceforth  answer  their  prayers  before 


264  PHILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN. 

their  adjournment,  and  that  no  law  and  no  ordinance 
be  published  by  the  Grown  before  consulting  them, 
when  they  were  assembled.  They  reproduced  al 
most  all  the  former  petitions  of  the  Cortes  which  had 
not  been  granted,  and  expressed  the  desire  that 
certain  custom-houses,  recently  established  by  a 
Royal  decree,  be  abolished  ;  that  a  number  of  offices 
which  had  been  created  by  the  same  authority  in 
several  branches  of  the  administration  be  also  abol 
ished,  and  that  there  be  no  further  creation  of  the 
kind  ;  that  the  royal  revenues  be  farmed  out,  and 
not  collected  by  administrators  ;  and  that  new  laws 
and  ordinances  be  made  in  relation  to  the  discovery 
and  working  of  mines.  They  insisted  on  the  im 
portance  of  preventing  the  amortizement  of  lands 
and  tenements  in  favor  of  the  clergy,  and  supplicated 
the  King  to  remember  that  the  Cortes  had  never 
ceased  to  remonstrate  against  this  abuse  since  the 
beginning  of  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Charles  V. 
They  added :  l  Until  now  no  remedy  has  been  ap 
plied  to  it,  but  experience  has  demonstrated  how 
just  and  necessary  is  this  reform,  because  the 
churches,  monasteries  and  other  pious  institutions 
have  possessed  themselves  of  the  greater  portion  of 
the  real  estates  of  the  Kingdom.  We  supplicate 
your  Majesty  to  stop  this  ever-increasing  evil,  when 
it  is  yet  time  to  provide  for  it."  On  this  occasion, 
at  last,  the  King  did  not  answer  as  before,  that  "  it 
was  not  proper  to  make  any  change,"  but  that,  "by 
his  command,  this  matter  was  under  advisement  in 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  265 

his  Royal  Council,  and  that  such  application  as  the 
case  required  would  be  made  to  the  Holy  See." 

The  Cortes  presented  a  remarkable  petition  against 
that  favorite  tool  of  Philip — the  omnipotent  Inquisi 
tion.  "The  officials  and  ministers  of  the  Holy  Of 
fice,"  they  said,  "are  so  highly  favored  in  conse 
quence  of  their  station,  that  they  meddle  with  many 
things  which  concern  them  not,  and  whenever  any 
one  of  them  is  involved  in  a  quarrel  or  dispute,  or 
takes  a  part  in  any  transaction,  or  is  connected  with 
any  affair,  it  affords  a  pretext  to  the  Inquisitors  of 
the  district  to  assume  jurisdiction  over  the  case,  and 
to  incarcerate  many  persons,  to  whom  much  harm 
results.  The  public  hears  of  the  imprisonment,  but 
is  not  informed  of  the  cause  of  it.  The  supposition 
is  that  it  is  in  consequence  of  delinquencies  against 
the  Church  and  the  true  faith.  It  throws  a  stain  on 
those  unfortunate  beings  and  their  descendants  which 
they  are  scarcely  ever  able  to  wipe  out,  and  they 
are  much  injured  in  their  character,  in  their  social 
position,  and  in  their  pursuits  or  avocations."  The 
Cortes,  therefore,  supplicated  his  Majesty  to  instruct 
the  Inquisitors  not  to  correct  anybody  except  in  cases 
of  heresy,  or  offence  against  the  Catholic  faith.  That 
assembly  drew  as  many  as  ninety-five  petitions  on 
matters  of  administration  and  political  economy. 
Some  were  founded  on  those  erroneous  maxims  pre 
vailing  at  the  time  concerning  the  management  of 
public  affairs,  and  proposed,  for  certain  abuses,  re 
forms  and  remedies  which  were  more  prejudicial 


266  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

than  salutary,  but  most  of  those  petitions  recom 
mended  measures  which  would  have  been  highly 
beneficial  if  adopted  by  the  Government.  The  same 
/may  be  said  of  the  preceding  Cortes.  It  is  impos- 
J  sible  not  to  come  to  the  conclusion  that,  if  Philip  had 
listened  to  the  representations  of  those  faithful  ex 
ponents  of  the  wants  and  aspirations  of  his  subjects, 
the  decline  of  Spain  would  have  been  arrested,  and 
that  with  renovated  vigor  she  would  have  entered 
into  a  new  career  of  prosperity  and  grandeur. 

V 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  267 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  financial  condition  of  Spain,  when  Philip  II. 
ascended  the  throne,  was  such  as  to  have  justly 
created  the  most  serious  alarms.  It  required  only 
common  sense  to  be  convinced  that  this  disorder 
must  be  stopped,  or  that  the  country  could  not  fail 
to  fall  into  the  most  poverty-stricken  helplessness. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  New  World  continued,  with 
ceaseless  abundance,  to  yield  its  countless  treasures 
to  the  avaricious  grasp  of  its  conquerors  ;  it  was  in 
vain  that  the  subjects  of  the  Spanish  Monarchy  were 
groaning  under  ever-increasing  taxes,  the  Royal 
treasury  remained  empty.  This  was  due  to  Philip's 
unwise  foreign  policy,  which  involved  him  in  wars 
and  intrigues  by  which  immense  sums  were  absorb 
ed,  and  to  an  internal  administration  in  which  cor 
ruption,  imbecility  and  oppression  combined  their 
efforts  to  dry  up  all  the  resources  of  the  Kingdom. 
Loans  after  loans  were  procured  by  paying  the  most 
usurious  interests,  and  mountains  of  debts  rose  on 
each  other  in  endless  succession,  whilst  laws  were 
made  which  repressed,  instead  of  developing,  com 
merce  and  industry  in  all  its  branches,  and  whilst 
exemptions  from  tax-paying  were  sold  to  an  extent 
which  is  hardly  credible.  The  exigencies  of  the 


268  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

hour  were  satisfied  by  destroying  the  sources  of 
revenue  ;  the  most  ruinous  means  to  raise  money 
which  penury  run  mad  could  devise  were  resorted 
to,  and  made  the  national  bankruptcy  a  proximate 
certainty.  A  proper  system  of  retrenchment  and 
economy,  order,  vigilance,  honesty  and  responsibility 
introduced  in  the  various  departments  of  the  ad 
ministration,  an  inflexible  determination  to  bring 
the  expenses  to  a  level  with  the  income  of  the  State, 
and  the  appropriation  of  a  sinking  fund  for  the  grad 
ual  extinguishment  of  its  obligations,  would  have 
been  the  policy  pursued  by  a  wise  and  patriotic 
Monarch,  but  Philip  went  on  plunging  heedlessly 
into  the  financial  chaos  which  he  found  gaping  before 
him,  giving  new  energy  to  its  wild  uproar  and  con 
fusion,  making  darkness  darker,  and  gathering  round 
his  random  and  starless  course  more  inextricable 
difficulties,  which  he  himself  had  produced.  With 
the  rashness  of  the  prodigal,  who  seems  to  be  in 
toxicated  by  the  very  sight  of  the  ruin  to  which 
he  rushes,  and  willing  to  drown  in  the  riotous 
enjoyment  of  the  present  all  care  of  providing  for 
the  necessities  of  the  future,  he  wasted  with  a  sort 
of  headlong  extravagance,  which  looks  incompatible 
with  his  phlegmatic  temperament,  as  much  of  his  in 
heritance  as  he  could  dispose  of,  and  he  mortgaged 
the  rest.  He  himself,  in  a  note  to  his  treasurer, 
Francisco  Grarneca,  expresses  very  pithily  the  ex 
tremity  of  destitution  to  which  he  had  been  reduced 
by  his  own  folly.  "  Having  already  reached,"  he 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  269 

said,  umy  forty-eighth  year,  and  the  hereditary 
Prince,  my  son,  being  only  three  years  old,  I  cannot 
but  see  with  the  keenest  anxiety  the  disorderly  con 
dition  of  the  treasury.  What  a  prospect  for  my  old 
age,  if  I  am  permitted  to  have  a  longer  career,  when 
I  am  now  living  from  day  to  day,  without  knowing 
how  I  shall  live  on  the  next,  and  how  I  shall  procure 
that  of  which  I  am  so  much  in  need  !"  It  is  hardly 
to  be  conceived  how  this  Prince  came,  in  his  life 
time,  to  be  surnamed  the  "  Prudent."  He  certainly 
performs  the  part  and  holds  the  language  of  a  young 
spendthrift,  whom  the  dissipations  of  Paris  or  Lon 
don  have  stripped  of  his  patrimonial  acres  and 
doomed  to  tardy  repentance. 

In  order  to  remedy  this  deplorable  state  of  things, 
the  King  formed  a  Junta  or  Commission,  composed 
of  individuals  chosen  out  of  the  several  Eoyal  Coun 
cils,  and  instructed  them  to  report  with  the  utmost 
diligence  on  this  urgent  and  vital  subject.  They 
went  to  work  without  loss  of  time  as  desired,  but 
their  united  wisdom  could  not  devise  any  other 
measure  than  such  as  despoiled  the  creditors  of  the 
State  and  violated  the  sanctity  of  contracts.  To  this 
act  of  iniquity,  which  was  to  be  as  fatal  to  its  perpe 
trators  as  to  those  against  whom  it  was  directed, 
Philip  gave  his  approbation.  The  payments  to 
which  those  creditors  were  entitled  were  suspended, 
the  stipulated  interests  reduced,  and  new  obligations 
or  promises,  under  a  different  form,  and  framed  in 
accordance  with  the  views  and  necessities  of  the 


270  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

Government,  were  given  to  those  who  had  claims 
against  it.  This  immoral  and  impolitic  breach  of 
faith  elicited  loud  and  indignant  complaints  from  its 
Spanish  and  from  its  foreign  creditors.  It  divulged 
to  Europe  the  whole  extent  of  the  financial  distress 
under  which  Philip  labored,  it  gave  the  final  blow 
to  his  already  tottering  credit,  it  proclaimed  to  his 
enemies  the  secret  of  his  growing  debility,  and  in 
stead  of  relieving,  it  increased  the  embarrassments 
of  the  treasury. 

There  is,  however,  ajwork  of  public  utility,  for 
which  it  gratifies  us  to  give  credit  to  Philip,  for  we 
have  had  little  occasion  to  praise  him,  and  it  is 
much  to  be  regretted  that  it  was  not  completed.  It 
was  designed  to  be  a  vast  repository,  not  only  of 
statistical,  but  also  of  geographical  and  historical 
information,  and  it  would  have  been  of  great  use  for 
establishing  a  just  and  accurate  basis  for  the  assess 
ment  of  property  and  the  apportionment  of  taxes. 
The  instructions  given  for  its  execution  were  ample 
and  minute,  and  might  serve  as  a  model  worthy  of 
imitation,  even  in  this  our  age  of  advanced  civiliza 
tion.  The  work  progressed  so  far  as  to  produce 
several  valuable  folios,  and  yet  withered  before 
maturity,  in  consequence  of  the  paralysis  which  was 
slowly  spreading  over  the  whole  country.  Philip 
had  desired  also  a  general  map  of  Spain  to  be  made, 
and  had  intrusted  the  surveys  which  it  required  to 
Don  Pedro  Esquivel,  a  celebrated  mathematician 
and  professor  at  the  University  of  Alcala,  but  they 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  271 

were  abandoned  on  account  of  his  death  and  that  of 
his  successor  during  their  operations.    This  has  been 
but  too  often  in  Spain  the  fate  of  useful  projects— 
a    beginning,  and    no    termination  —  a    spasmodic 
effort,  and  a  collapse. 

The  financial  distress  which  pervaded  the  King 
dom  was  not  without  its  anomaly,  and  the  national 
atrophy  without  its  exception  and  contrast.  If  the 
creditors  of  the  State  were  defrauded,  if  public 
officers  clamored  in  vain  for  their  meagre  salary, 
if  armies  mutinied  or  melted  away  from  the  with 
holding  of  their  pay,  if  contractors  abandoned  their 
works  because  their  wages  were  not  forthcoming, 
if  fleets  could  not  sail  because  they  were  unprovided, 
with  everything  they  needed,  if  Philip  pretended 
that  there  was  not  one  day  when  he  knew  how  he 
should  live  on  the  next,  if  the  artisan's  shop  had  to 
be  closed  from  the  want  of  employment,  if  fertile 
fields  remained  uncultivated  by  the  husbandman, 
who  calculated  that  his  labor  would  not  produce 
enough  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  tax-gatherer,  if 
squalid  beggary  swarmed  where  industry  had  once 
smiled  with  contentment,  if  a  fatal  drowsiness  seemed 
gradually  to  benumb  the  faculties  of  a  noble  race, 
there  was  at  least  one  spot  where  flowed  a  continual 
stream  of  gold,  where  work  had  its  merited  guerdon, 
and  where  repose  was  pillowed  in  the  lap  of  abund 
ance.  That  spot  was  formerly  an  obscure,  deserted  , 
and  miserable  village  in  the  vicinity  of  Madrid. 
Now  it  was  alive  with  the  presence  of  thousands  of 


272  PHILIP    II.  OF   SPAIN. 

mechanics  and  laborers  of  all  sorts,  and  had  become 
the  residence  of  many  artists  of  genius,  who  strove, 
in  emulation  of  each  other,  to  produce  architectural 
prodigies  and  masterpieces  of  sculpture  and  paint 
ing.  There,  was  royalty  itself  giving  assiduously  to 
the  whole  work  a  superintendence  of  love,  acting 
with  unwonted  familiarity  and  good-nature,  smiling 
approbation,  encouraging  with  look,  word  and  ges 
ture,  pouring  gold  into  horny  palms  which  heaved 
up  ponderous  stones,  and  into  those  delicate  hands 
which  gave  a  visible  form  to  the  glorious  conceptions 
of  taste  and  imagination.  There,  was  Philip  stir 
ring  up  himself  and  others,  and  there,  grew  the 
Escorial  from  its  Cyclopean  foundations.  There,  a 
city  of  canvas  structures,  of  tented  workshops,  of 
thatched  huts,  of  sheds,  pavilions  and  wooden  build 
ings  of  all  sorts  had  suddenly  arisen  to  accommo 
date  the  multitude  which  the  King  had  summoned 
to  erect  a  monument  for  the  wonder  of  all  ages. 
There,  all  was  action  and  noise  and  bustle  from  the 
early  dawn  until  night  darkened  the  scene  ;  there, 
the  music  of  the  hammer  and  the  music  of  the  human 
voice  ;  there,  the  varied  songs  of  all  the  provinces 
of  Spain,  for  they  were  all  represented,  and  the 
agglomerated  volume  of  sounds  proceeding  from  an 
infinite  variety  of  machines,  vehicles  and  tools.  It 
was  the  tumult  of  Babel,  without  its  confusion. 

The  pieces  of  stone  used  for  the  construction  of 
that  gigantic  edifice  were  so  enormous,  that  it  was 
not  uncommon  to  see  forty  or  fifty  pairs  of  oxen 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  273 

engaged  in  transporting  a  single  one  of  those  de 
tached  fragments  of  neighboring  rocks.  Whole 
mines  seemed  to  have  been  exhausted  to  furnish  the 
iron,  lead,  copper  and  tin  which  were  used  ;  the  quan- 
ti  ty  of  bronze  was  in  proportion.  Jaspers  of  various 
hues  and  Lapis  Lazuli,  the  most  beautiful  marbles 
of  Spain  and  Italy,  the  most  precious  woods  of  Eu 
rope  and  America,  with  other  materials  for  inside 
and  outside  decoration,  which  are  too  numerous  to 
be  described,  were  collected  with  a  profusion  which 
struck  with  amazement  those  who  saw  the  gorgeous 
exhibition.  This  far-famed  edifice  is  a  rectangular 
parallelogram  of  some  744  feet  from  North  to  South, 
and  580  from  East  to  West.*  It  stands  about  2,700 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  looks  like  a  nat 
ural  part  of  the  mountain  of  granite  out  of  which  it 
has  been  constructed.f  The  square  of  the  building 
covers  3,002  feet ;  there  are  63  fountains,  12  clois 
ters,  80  staircases,  16  courtyards,  3,000  feet  of 
painted  fresco,  and  11,000  windows,  which  are  said 
to  have  been  intended  as  a  compliment  to  the  mem 
ory  of  the  virgin  martyrs  of  Cologne.  An  eye 
witness  wrote,  that  the  number  of  the  men  who  built 
the  Escorial  can  no  more  be  ascertained  than  that 
of  those  who  erected  the  Temple  of  Solomon.  "  So 
manyj  works  were  carried  on  at  the  same  time/'  he 
said,  "  that,  although  I  lived  many  years  in  their 
midst,  I  am  still  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  how  it 

*  Madoz,  vii.,  527.  f  Murray's  Spain. 

\  Cabrera's  History  of  Philip,  c.  17. 
18 


r 


274  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

could  be  done  ;  and,  vanquished  in  the  attempt  to 
relate  it,  I  leave  the  task  to  other  historians,  as  I 
feel  like  St.  John  the  Evangelist,  who  despaired  of 
describing  what  he  saw  of  the  Transfiguration." 

The  Spanish  historian,  Modesto  Lafuente,  to 
whom  we  are  so  largely  indebted  in  this  composition, 
says  of  the  Escorial :  "  Various  and  even  conflicting 
judgments  have  been  passed,  from  the  beginning  to 
this  time,  on  this  gigantic,  austere  and  marvellous 
edifice.  Some  have  considered  its  author  as  the 
prototype  of  piety,  and  others,  of  religious  fanati 
cism.  As  to  ourself,  we  think  that  he  was  a  com 
pound  of  both.  It  seems  to  us,  also,  that  it  is  im 
possible  to  deny  with  justice  the  splendor  of  the  con 
ception.  It  is  certainly  wonderful  that,  when  Eu 
rope  was  convulsed  with  wars,  when  nations  saw 
their  fields  uncultivated  and  their  treasures  ex 
hausted,  when  in  other  Kingdoms  the  hands  of  the 
Protestants  were  occupied  in  demolishing  the  Cath 
olic  churches,  there  should  be  found  a  Monarch  who, 
in  a  corner  of  Castile  and  at  the  foot  of  a  barren 
and  rocky  mountain,  raised  and  consecrated  to  relig 
ion  a  monument  of  such  colossal  dimensions  —  a 
peaceful  and  silent  abode  for  Kings  and  monks  to 
live  together,  as  if  he  had  flung  defiance  at  the 
world,  and  said  :  '  I  will  build  up  an  inexpugnable 
fortress  against  the  new  doctrines,  and  an  adaman 
tine  shelter  where  religion  and  royalty  will  feel  as 
sured  that  not  a  single  one  of  those  ideas  which 
agitate  and  perturb  the  world  can  penetrate.'  If  it 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  275 

was  true  piety,  the  grandeur  of  the  inspiration  was 
worthy  of  its  origin ;  if  it  was  religious  fanaticism, 
its  effect  was  the  same,  although  proceeding  from  a 
source  less  pure. 

"In  an  economical  point  of  view,  it  is  difficult 
not  to  consider  the  Escorial  as  an  ostentatious  and 
magnificent  error.  When  the  nations  over  which 
extended  the  sceptre  of  Spain  were  daily  complain 
ing  of  the  insupportable  weight  of  the  tributes  im 
posed  upon  them,  when  so  many  ordinary  and  ex 
traordinary  taxes  were  not  sufficient  to  cover  the 
expenses  of  the  Kingdom,  when  the  Spanish  troops, 
who  were  shedding  their  blood  to  subject  to  the 
arms  of  Castile  distant  regions,  were  every  day  mu 
tinying  from  the  want  of  pay  ;  when  the  King  him 
self  was  lamenting  his  own  personal  state  of  desti 
tution,  to  invest  immense  sums  in  the  construction 
of  an  edifice  which,  however  admirable  in  its  relig 
ious  and  artistic  aspect,  was  at  least  not  necessary, 
seems  to  have  been  an  unjustifiable  deviation  from 
common  sense  and  judgment.  It  is  impossible  to 
approve  of  impoverishing  a  nation  to  build  a  sump 
tuous  dwelling  for  one  hundred  and  forty  monks." 
The  chronicler,  Father  Siguenza,  who  is  the  most 
fervent  apologist  of  that  superb  monument,  could  not 
but  confess  that  "the  Spaniards  had  deeply  rooted 
in  their  hearts  the  sad  conviction  that  it  was  the 
cause  of  all  their  poverty,  sufferings,  taxes  and  trib 
utes."  We  have  already  stated,  in  the  course  of 
this  work,  that  the  whole  cost  of  the  Escorial  had 


276  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

been  at  least  six  millions  of  ducats  ;  a  sum  equal  to 
the  total  amount  of  the  revenues  of  the  Kingdom, 
and  equivalent  to  about  twenty-five  or  perhaps 
thirty  millions  of  dollars  in  the  gold  and  silver 
currency  of  the  United  States,  if  we  make  a  proper 
allowance  for  the  comparative  difference  in  the 
value  of  money  in  those  days  and  in  ours  ;  and 
it  must  also  not  be  forgotten,  in  order  to  have 
an  accurate  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  that  cost, 
that  salaries  and  wages  of  all  sorts  were  then  so 
low,  and  materials  for  building,  with  articles  of 
food  for  the  workmen,  so  very  cheap,  that  the  like 
of  it  would  be  considered  in  our  age  as  fabulous. 

The  Cortes  of  1583  soon  resumed,  as  it  were,  the 
continuation  of  the  labors  of  those  who  had  adjourned 
in  1582,  for  they  petitioned  on  many  of  the  same 
subjects.  They  insisted  particularly  on  reforms  in 
the  administration  of  justice,  and  on  the  necessity 
of  remedying  the  evils  resulting  from  the  delays  of 
judicial  proceedings,  in  consequence  of  which  suit 
ors  were  so  long  kept  out  of  their  rights,  and  pris 
oners  were  indefinitely  detained  in  prison  before 
judgment  was  given.  Among  the  administrative 
measures  which  they  recommended  was  the  humane 
one  of  having  stores  of  corn  in  the  chief  town  of 
every  district,  to  assist  the  poor  among  the  peasantry 
in  the  years  of  short  crops,  or  in  case  of  famine.  It 
is  to  be  remarked  of  the  Cortes  of  1583,  that,  being 
convinced  at  last  of  the  inutility,  if  not  the  impro 
priety,  of  the  existing  law  which  repressed  as  much 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  277 

as  possible  the  use  of  coaches,  they  proposed  that  it 
be  made  much  less  restrictive,  because  it  was  impos 
sible  to  subdue,  as  they  alleged,  "  the  torrent  of 
fashion  and  the  rage  of  imitation.'7  One  of  their 
petitions  gives  but  a  sorry  idea  of  the  state  of  disci 
pline  which  prevailed  in  the  army  at  that  epoch. 
"The  men  of  war  and  soldiers  of  this  Kingdom," 
they  said,  "move  together  and  in  companies  from 
one  place  to  another,  and  on  their  way  they  commit 
such  outrages,  particularly  in  small  towns  and  vil 
lages,  that  the  inhabitants  fly  from  them  to  the 
mountains  and  to  desert  places,  and  prefer  to  aban 
don  to  their  depredations  their  houses,  with  the  fur 
niture,  goods  and  supplies  which  they  contain, 
rather  than  to  expose  their  persons  to  insolence  and 
indescribable  atrocities."  Whenever  any  of  the 
delinquents  were  seized  by  the  civil  authorities,  the 
military  power  interfered  and  set  them  free.  The 
Cortes  denounced  these  abominations,  and  pro 
posed  measures  to  put  an  end  to  their  perpetra 
tion.*  Notwithstanding  the  former  protestations 
of  that  body,  the  Inquisition  had  not  ceased  to 
arrest  and  judge  persons  for  causes  unconnected 
with  religion  and  the  Catholic  faith.  The  Cortes  of 
1583  addressed  the  King  on  this  subject ;  they  beg 
ged  that  this  usurpation  be  checked,  and  that  the 
civil  authorities  be  protected  against  it.f  But  they 
had  to  put  up  with  the  same  answer  which  he  had 
given  to  their  predecessors.  It  was  :  that  his  Maj- 

*  Petition  No.  39.        f  Petition  No.  77, 


278  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

esty  "had  ordered  the  contents  of  their  petition  to 
be  examined,  so  that  what  was  proper  might  be 
done."  This  assembly  also  remonstrated  against 
the  levying  of  illegal  taxes — that  eternal  theme  of 
complaint  from  the  representatives  of  the  people. 
The  Royal  reply  was  as  usual :  "  We  have  been 
compelled  by  our  necessities,  as  our  Cortes  have 
been  more  than  once  informed,  to  have  recourse  to 
such  ways  and  means,  but  we  shall  see  what  may  be 
done  in  the  matter  for  the  future."  He  received  as 
unfavorably  another  address  concerning  his  contin 
ual  sales  of  towns,  villages,  regiments  and  offices  of 
all  sorts,  and  concerning  his  practice  of  enlarging, 
on  the  payment  of  a  sum  of  money,  the  jurisdiction 
of  certain  magistracies.  Out  of  eighty-four  petitions 
which  the  Cortes  presented  to  Philip  only  twelve 
were  granted.  They  related  to  subjects  of  no  very 
great  importance,  and  yet  he  seems  to  have  assented 
to  them  churlishly  ;  for  one,  two  and  three  years 
elapsed  before  all  the  ordinances  which  he  framed 
accordingly  were  promulgated.  It  was  as  if  Philip 
had  said:  " I  cannot  decently  refuse  you  all  that 
you  ask  for  ;  hence  I  reluctantly  throw  before  you 
these  few  bones  ;  make  the  most  of  my  condescen 
sion."  The  Cortes  appear  to  have  felt  it :  for  they 
prayed  the  Sovereign  to  shorten  their  sessions,  be 
cause  their  remaining  so  long  assembled  was  a  cause 
of  expense  which  their  constituents,  who  had  to  pay 
for  their  services,  could  hardly  bear.*  They  would 

f  Acts  of  the  Cortes  of  1583  to  1585 ;  pi-luted  in  Madrid  in  1587. 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  279 

probably  have  added,  if  they  had  dared,  that  they 
were  heartily  tired  of  this  semblance  of  freedom,  of 
their  purposeless  deliberations,  of  their  contemned 
remonstrances,  of  their  shadowy  projects  of  law,  of 
their  stillborn  plans  of  reform,  of  the  vain  parade  of 
their  effete  existence,  and  of  this  solemn  farce  of 
popular  representation. 

In  1586,  Philip  again  convened  the  Cortes  in 
Madrid  for  no  other  purpose,  one  would  suppose 
from  his  past  treatment  of  that  body,  than  to  have 
the  pleasure  to  discard  their  petitions.  That  assem 
bly,  however,  made  an  attempt  to  rescue  themselves 
from  the  nothingness  to  which  they  had  been  re 
duced.  They  presented  to  the  King  an  energetic 
address,  in  which  they  said  in  substance  :  "  We,  the 
Representatives  sent  to  the  Cortes,  who  have  met  ac 
cording  to  your  royal  summons,  have  come  as  usual 
with  the  desire  to  do  all  that  your  Majesty's  service 
may  require,  to  perform  with  equal  zeal  the  work 
which  the  inhabitants  of  this  realm  and  its  subjects 
expect  of  us,  and  to  give  satisfaction  to  their  wants 
in  all  matters  of  a  general  and  particular  nature.  In 
our  conferences  and  deliberations  we  are  determin 
ed  to  pray,  with  all  the  suitable  propriety  of  form 
and  manner,  for  nothing  which  shall  not  be  just  and 
necessary."  After  this  preamble,  they  complained 
that,  in  violation  of  an  organic  law  to  which  they 
specially  called  the  attention  of  the  King,  no  answer 
was  given  to  their  petitions  before  they  adjourned, 
or  if  any  was  returned,  that  it  was  evasive,  and  that, 


280  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

if  favorable  and  explicit,  long  delays  intervened 
before  any  action  followed  in  conformity  with  its 
tenor,  in  consequence  of  which  the  welfare  of  the 
Commonwealth  suffered  not  a  little,  and  the  people 
no  longer  enjoyed  the  fruits  which  were  formerly 
obtained  from  the  institution  of  the  Cortes.  "  We 
therefore  supplicate  your  Majesty/'  they  said,  u  that 
all  the  provisions  of  the  law  which  we  have  cited  be 
observed."  The  King  replied,  in  his  habitual  half- 
shuffling  and  half-contemptuous  way,  that  henceforth 
he  would  respond  to  their  petitions  "  with  as  much 
promptness  as  there  would  be  occasion  for."  *  As 
to  the  ordinances  which  he  caused  to  be  drawn 
according  to  such  of  their  views  as  he  adopted,  he 
did  not  have  them  promulgated  before  two  years 
had  elapsed  since  their  adjournment.f  This  was 
the  manner  in  which  he  treated  their  remonstrances 
about  the  dilatoriness  of  previous  publications. 

With  the  same  firmness  of  tone  and  precision  of 
language  they  informed  the  King,  that  his  subjects 
felt  at  last  "fatigued"  under  the  increasing  burden 
of  so  many  and  so  heavy  taxes  for  the  ordinary  and 
extraordinary  service  of  the  State,  and  that  it  was 
impossible  for  them  to  pay  such  enormous  contribu 
tions.  They  desired  him  to  keep  in  mind  that 
according  to  the  Constitution  of  the  Kingdom,  no 
tax  could  be  laid  and  collected  which  had  not  been 

*  Que  en  adelante  mandaria  responder  a  las  peticiones  con  la  brevedad 
que  hubiere  lugar. 
f  Lafuente.    History  of  Spain,  p.  435,  vol.  XIV. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  281 

previously  voted  by  the  Cortes.  They  told  him 
that  this  was  emphatically  the  law,  the  most  ancient 
usage  of  the  Kingdom,  the  practice  observed  by  his 
predecessors,  and  sanctioned  by  the  "  natural  logic  of 
reason,"  and  they  begged  that  the  people  be  reliev 
ed  from  such  impositions  on  persons  and  property 
as  had  been  thus  illegally  decreed.  To  this  request, 
which,  for  years,  had  been  repeatedly  made,  the 
King  had  but  one  stereotyped  answer  :  *  "  T!"  at  the 
great  necessities  under  which  he  had  labored  to  pro 
vide  for  the  protection  of  the  Holy  Catholic  faith 
and  for  the  preservation  and  defence  of  the  realm, 
had  been  the  cause  of  his  having  used  some  ways 
and  means  to  which  it  was  impossible  not  to  have 
had  recourse,  but  that  he  would  take  care  to  order  that 
this  thing  be  looked  into,  and  that  the  desired  rem 
edy  be  procured,  whenever  the  aforesaid  difficulties 
should  permit  its  application."  Those  "  necessities/' 
and  consequent  violations  of  the  law,  lasted  the 
whole  of  Philip's  reign.  The  King's  impassive  per 
severance  in  disregarding  the  protests  of  the  Cortes 
walTequal  to  the  pertinacity  with  which  they  were 
sent.  It  was  a  long  struggle  of  patience  between 

*  Lafuente,  History  of  Spain,  p.  436,  vol.  XIV.  La  respuesta  del  rey 
fue  la  de  costumbre :  "  A  esto  vos  respondemos  que  las  grandes  necexitades 
a  que  nos  habemos  puesto  por  acudir  a  la  defension  de  la  Santa  Fe  Cato- 
lica,  y  conservacion  y  defensa  de  estos  reinos,  han  sido  causa  de  que  se  haya 
usado  de  algunos  medios  y  arbitrios  sin  haberse  podido  escusar,  y  tendre- 
mos  cuidado  de  mandar  se  vaya  mirando  y  procurando  el  remedio  en  cuanto 
las  dic/iax  uecesitadcs  dieren  lugar. 


282  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

him  and  that  body — the  patience  of  prayer  on  one 
side,  and  the  patience  of  denial  on  the  other. 

These  Cortes  fell  again  into  the  old  inveterate 
error  of  praying  for  the  passage  of  sumptuary  laws. 
It  was  one  of  those  few  subjects  on  which  Philip  was 
pleased  with  their  interference,  and,  on  such  occa 
sions,  he  never  failed  in  his  answer  to  depart  from 
his  usual  laconism  ;  for  if  it  be  true,  as  Motley  main 
tains  in  his  "History  of  the  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Ee- 
public,"  that  he  was  "  the  most  tautological  of  wri 
ters,"  it  must  be  confessed  that,  when  it  suited  his 
mood  and  purpose,  he  knew  how  to  be  brief  and 
precise.  Be  it  as  it  may,  he  readily  listened  to  the 
application  made  by  the  Cortes  for  the  repression 
of  extravagant  habits  of  living,  and,  in  compliance 
with  their  expressed  desire,  he  promulgated  an 
ordinance  specifying  how  men  and  women  should 
be  dressed  in  his  dominions.  It  will  be  recollected 
that  he  had  already  prescribed  what  they  should 
eat.*  This  pragmatic  about  the  cut,  make  and 
materials  of  habiliments  is  certainly  a  most  curious 
and  quaint  document,  which  is  more  worthy  of  a 
tailor  than  of  a  powerful  Monarch.  But  these 
minutire  were  precisely  what  Philip  most  affected. 
He  liked  to  be  felt  by  Lis  subjects  in  the  humblest 
details  of  life.  He  wanted  them  to  be  automatons, 
and  he  the  regulator  of  all  their  movements.  In 
many  instances  this  meddling  may  have  been  well 

*  See  p.  126  of  this  work. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  283 

meant,  but  it  must  have  been  far  more  insupportable 
than  his  worst  acts  of  oppression  ;  for  Macaulay  says 
with  truth  in  his  essay  on  Frederic  the  Great :  "  We 
could  make  shift  to  live  under  a  debauchee,  or  a 
tyrant ;  but  to  be  ruled  by  a  busy-body  is  more 
than  human  nature  can  bear."  Spanish  nature  bore 
it,  however,  not  from  servility,  but  from  that  chival 
rous  loyalty  which  generally  made  the  Spaniards  of 
those  days  loth  to  question  the  King's  authority. 
Any  tailor  or  dressmaker,  violating  any  of  the  pro 
visions  of  the  ordinance  we  have  mentioned,  was  to 
be  punished  with  exile  for  four  years  from  the  place 
of  his  residence,  and  with  a  fine  of  twenty  thousand 
maravedis,  to  be  divided  in  equal  parts  between  the 
King,  the  Judge  and  the  denunciator.  Minute  in 
structions  were  given  to  men,  whatever  was  their 
age,  condition,  quality,  and  the  class  they  belonged 
to,  as  to  their  garments  in  general,  down  to  the  sort 
of  shirt  they  had  to  wear  ;  and  the  ordinance  even 
forbade  its  being  starched,  according  to  circum 
stances,  under  the  penalty,  in  case  of  disobedience, 
of  forfeiting  the  shirt,  with  its  ornaments,  and  of 
paying  a  fine  of  thirty  ducats.*  A  better  ordinance 
was  the  one  which  prohibited  women  from  wearing 

*  Y  asimismo  mandamos  que  ningun  liombre,  de  cualquier  clase,  con- 
dicion,  calidad  y  edad  que  sea,  pueda  traer  ni  traiga  en  lo*  cnellos,  ni  en 
punos,  ni  en  lechugnillas,  sueltos  or  asentados  en  la  camisa,  ni  en  otra  parte, 
guarnicion  redes,  ni  deshilados,  ni  almidon,  ni  arroz,  ni  gomas,  verguillas, 
ni  filetes  de  alumbre,  oro,  ni  plata,  ni  alquimia,  ni  de  otra  cosa,  xino  sola 
la  lechuguilla  de  holanda  or  lienzo,  con  nna  6  dos  vainillas  chicas,  so  pena 
de  perdicion  de  la  camisa,  cuello  y  punos  7  de  treinta  ducados,  aplicado 
segun  dicho  es. 


284  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

masks  when  they  went  abroad.  It  was  a  general 
and  mischievous  usage.  Men*  borrowed  the  female 
apparel,  and,  in  that  disguise,  committed,  said  the 
Cortes,  who  remonstrated  against  this  abuse,  "  all 
manner  of  iniquities  and  sacrileges."  According  to 
the  same  authority,  "  Fathers  met  their  daughters, 
husbands  their  wives,  and  brothers  their  sisters 
without  recognizing  them,  whereby  there  resulted 
much  offence  to  God  and  injury  to  the  public.77  The 
existence  of  such  a  custom  certainly  implied  a  very 
singular  state  of  society.  If  it  was  romantic,  it  can 
not  be  denied  that  it  tempted  to  immoralities,  and 
it  was,  therefore,  the  fit  subject  of  a  prosaic  police 
regulation,  for  each  infraction  of  which  there  was  to 
be  paid  a  penalty  of  3,000  maravedis.  This  sum, 
equal  to  nine  dollars  in  the  currency  of  the  United 
States,  or  in  reality  to  about  thirty  or  thirty-five 
dollars,  considering  the  relative  value  of  money  be 
tween  that  time  and  ours,  was  evidently  not  sufficient 
to  restrain  women  of  rank,  fashion  and  wealth  from 
continuing  this  evil  practice  on  such  occasions  as 

*  Ha  venido  a  tal  estremo  (said  the  Cortes)  el  uso  de  andar  tapadas  las 
mugeres,  que  dello  lian  resultado  grandes  ofensas  de  Dios  y  notable  dano 
de  la  republica,  a  causa  de  que  en  aquella  forma  no  conoce  el  padre  a  la 
hija,  ni  el  marido  a  la  muger,  ni  el  hermano  a  la  hennana,  y  tiene  la 
libertad  y  tiempo  y  lugar  a  su  voluntad,  y  dan  occasion  a  que  los  hom- 
bresse  atrevan  a  la  hija  6  muger  del  mas  principal  como  a  la  del  mas 
vil  y  bajo,  lo  que  no  seria  si  diesen  lugar,  yendo  descubiertas  s  que  la  luz 
dicirniere  las  unas  de  las  otras,  porque  entonces  cada  una  presumiera  ser 
y  seria  de  todos  diferentemente  tratada  y  que  se  viesen  diferentes  obras 
en  las  unas  que  en  las  otras,  demas  de  lo  cual  se  escusarian  grandes 
maldades  y  sacrilegios  que  los  hombres  vestidos  como  mugeres,  y  tapados 
sin  poder  ser  conocidos,  han  hecho  y  hacen. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  285 

they  might  deem  convenient.  For  this  reason,  and 
from  the  difficulty  of  enforcing  such  an  ordinance 
against  persons  of  influence,  it  would  be  presumed, 
if  not  known,  that  the  custom  of  wearing  masks 
was  not  entirely  discontinued  by  a  certain  class, 
until  it  was  put  down  by  the  more  powerful  edict 
of  public  opinion.  The  Cortes  proposed  also  many 
reforms  in  all  the  branches  of  the  administration  of 
the  Kingdom.  If  we  are  to  judge,  by  the  contents 
of  their  petitions  on  the  subject,  of  the  morality  of 
the  officers  of  the  Government,  we  must  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  was  at  the  lowest  ebb.* 

Philip,  be  it  on  account  of  the  energetic  and  inde 
pendent  spirit  with  which  he  had  been  addressed  by 
these  Cortes,  or  for  some  other  cause,  was  more 
liberal  to  them  than  he  had  been  to  the  preceding 
assemblies  ;  for  he  granted  them  thirty-one  out  of 
the  seventy-one  petitions  which  they  presented  to 
him.  f  It  is  a  singular  feature  of  this  singular  reign, 
that  Philip  kept  the  Cortes  always  in  attendance  on 
his  person,  with  but  short  interruptions  ;  that  each 
session  lasted  between  two  and  three  years,  and  that, 
during  this  prodigious  length  of  time,  about  eighty 
petitions,  on  an  average,  were  elaborated,  of  which 
more  than  three-fourths  were  invariably  rejected,  or 
met  with  the  usual  answers  which  we  have  recorded. 
It  is  evident  that  the  Cortes  were  not  overworked, 

*  Acts  of  the  Cortes  of  Madrid  from  1586  to  1588,  published  in  that  city 
in  1590. 

f  Lafuente's  History  of  Spain,  p.  438,  vol.  14. 


286  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

and  could  not  be  much  gratified  at  the  results  which 
they  obtained  from  their  labors,  such  as  they  were. 
Indeed,  it  is  a  puzzle  to  imagine  how  they  could  still 
preserve  the  appearance  of  being  at  work,  whilst 
months  followed  after  months  in  endless  succession, 
without  their  being  prorogued.  What  could  they 
be  writing,  talking,  or  deliberating  about  ?  It  is  not 
astonishing,  therefore,  that  they  did  earnestly  pray 
the  King  to  shorten  their  sessions,  which  had  become 
so  expensive  for  their  constituents.  To  be  assembled 
a  couple  of  years  with  no  other  object  to  be  attained 
than  to  have  a  score  or  two  of  petitions  attended  to, 
and  the  few  petitions  that  were  thus  favored  being 
generally  such  as  were  the  least  important,  must 
have  discouraged  the  most  zealous  reformer  who 
ever  sat  in  that  body.  When  the  Cortes  could  easily 
have  done  in  two  or  three  months  what  it  took  them 
as  many  years  to  accomplish,  when  they  themselves 
and  the  cities,  towns  and  districts  which  sent  them 
and  paid  for  their  services  united  in  the  wish  that 
they  be  dismissed  to  their  respective  homes,  when 
Philip  had  predetermined  hardly  ever  to  acquiesce 
in  anything  they  proposed,  it  is  difficult  to  under 
stand  why  he  thus  prolonged  their  sessions.  No 
ostensible  reason  can  be  seen  for  it.  Was  it  to  dis 
gust  his  subjects  with  popular  representation  by 
giving  them  a  surfeit  of  it,  or  making  it  so  costly  a 
luxury  ?  It  remains  one  of  the  inexplicable  features 
of  that  mysterious  policy  which  Philip  loved  to 
pursue. 


PHILIP    II.    OF    SPAIN.  287 

The  passion  of  the  King  for  scribbling,  his  policy 
or  his  natural  inclination  to  go  himself  into  all  those 
details  of  business  which  he  ought  to  have  left  to 
his  ministers  ;  his  mania  to  read  and  correct,  not 
only  the  papers  which  issued  from  the  several  De 
partments  of  State,  but  also  those  which  were  re 
ceived,  and  to  fill  them  with  interlines  and  under 
lines,  with  comments  and  marginal  notes,  were  the 
cause  of  great  delays  and  embarrassments.  The 
Cortes  of  1588  applauded  the  excess  of  his  zeal,  but 
represented  to  him  that,  if  he  did  not  assume  to  do 
himself  what  should  be  left  to  others  to  perform, 
and  if  he  attended  less  to  minutias,  he  would  have 
more  time  to  devote  to  those  general  and  large  in 
terests  which  were  worthy  of  his  attention,  and  that 
the  Kingdom  would,  in  consequence  of  it,  derive 
more  advantage  from  the  wisdom  and  many  other 
endowments  of  the  royal  mind.  Philip  received 
graciously  this  complimentary  remonstrance,  but 
returned  no  other*  answer  than  that  "  he  would  order 
it  to  be  looked  into,  and  would  have  that  done  in  the 
premises  which  the  good  service  of  the  Kingdom 
might  require."  The  Cortes  further  represented  that 
his  Majesty  had  instituted  a  certain  number  of 
Councils,  such  as  the  Council  of  State,  the  Council 
of  War,  the  Council  of  the  Treasury,  the  Council  of 
Grace  and  Justice,  and  others,  which  they  thought 
to  be  sufficient  for  the  wants  of  the  Government, 

*  Que  mandaria  mirar  y  pro  veer  en  ello  lo  que  conviniera  al  buen  ser. 
vicio  del  reino 


288  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

without  the  creation  of  so  many  special  Juntas  or 
Councils  and  special  Tribunals,  whose  powers  were 
sure  to  conflict  with  the  jurisdiction  of  the  regular 
and  ordinary  authorities,  and  that  it  produced  con 
fusion  and  many  difficulties  which  greatly  retarded 
and  perplexed  the  transaction  of  public  business. 
Their  complaint  was  certainly  well  founded.  The 
curriculum  of  the  State  was  already  but  too  noto 
riously  known  as  a  slow  coach.  It  was  intolerable 
to  have  poles  thrust  athwart  its  wheels  further  to 
impede  their  sluggish  rotation.  The  Cortes  prayed, 
therefore,  with  much  reason,  that  this  evil  be  reme 
died.  Their  master,  however,  turned  as  usual  a 
deaf  ear  to  their  supplications. 

As  their  predecessors  had  done  many  a  time, 
they  remonstrated  against  the  inordinate  duration 
of  their  sessions.  They  begged  to  be  kept  no 
longer  assembled  than  they  used  to  be  in  the  reigns 
of  their  former  Monarchs  ;  they  said  that  their  pro 
crastinated  absence  from  home  prevented  their  at 
tending  to  their  own  private  affairs,  which,  from 
such  neglect,  went  to  wreck,  and  that  their  constitu 
ents  were  also  ruined  by  being  compelled  to  pay  for 
the  expenses  of  such  interminable  assemblies.  The 
King  replied  that ''he  would  dismiss  them  as  soon 
as  possible."  So  much  for  his  word.  But  what  did 
he  do  ?  He  unmercifully  detained  them  four  years, 
hanging  on  his  skirts  !  Was  it  on  pressing  business  ? 
No.  For,  what  they  did  and  was  accepted  by  the 
King  was  promulgated  only  a  year  after  they  had 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  289 

been  permitted  to  adjourn.  If  this  was  not  intended 
as  a  mockery,  what  else  could  it  mean  ?  It  is  no 
wonder  that  Spanish  patience  has  become  proverbial. 
"We  see  that  it  was  proof  against  all  the  trials  which 
Philip  inflicted  upon  it,  and  it  must  be  admitted  that 
he  had  ways  of  his  own  which  would  have  exhausted 
the  endurance  of  a  population  of  Jobs. 

Philip,  notwithstanding  the  remonstrances  of  his 
subjects,  had  not  ceased  to  tax  them  according  to  his 
will  and  pleasure,  without  the  concurrence  of  their 
Representatives.  This  evil  became  more  difficult  of 
eradication  in  proportion  as  it  struck  deeper  roots 
into  the  soil.  The  Cortes  of  1588  were  aware  of 
this,  and  therefore  addressed  the  Sovereign  with 
increased  energy  on  the  necessity  of  returning  to  the 
scrupulous  observance  of  one  of  the  most  important 
of  the  organic  laws  of  the  State.  Their  language  was 
explicit  and  vigorous.  They  prayed  him  to  remem 
ber  all  the  complaints  of  their  predecessors  on  the 
same  subject.  Making  allowance  for  the  "necessi 
ties  "  which  he  always  alleged  for  his  justification, 
they  no  less  bitterly  deplored  that  he  had  no  other 
answers  to  give*  than  that  "  he  would  look  into  it 
and  would  find  a  remedy,"  when  that  remedy  never 
came,  and  the  abuse  remained  as  full  of  life  as  be 
fore.  They  depicted  in  vivid  colors  the  extreme 
distress  of  the  nation,  and  supplicated  his  Majesty 
that  the  continuation  of  this  illegal  mode  of  taxation 
be  effectually  and  thoroughly  stopped.f  The  reply 

*  Que  se  fuese  mirando  y  procurando  el  remedio.    f  Que  el  abuso  cesara 
de  todo  panto.  Peticion,  No.  9.  19 


290  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

of  the  King  was  more  bland  than  was  his  wont,  but 
it  had  lost  none  of  its  characteristic  evasiveness.  It 
neither  promised  nor  granted  anything.  The  con 
ciliatory  mildness  of  his  language  was  an  opiate  he 
was  willing  to  apply  to  a  sore  which  he  knew  to 
be  really  painful.  It  was  an  emollient  with  which 
he  intended  to  soothe,  but  not  to  cure.  Nothing 
ever  was  further  from  Philip's  mind  than  to  permit 
the  Cortes  to  hold  the  strings  of  the  public  purse. 

When  a  State  is  diseased,  and  those  to  whose 
care  its  health  is  committed  are  at  a  loss  what  to  do 
for  the  recovery  of  their  patient,  empirics  present 
themselves  with  all  sorts  of  panaceas  and  nostrums, 
and  their  number,  solicitations  and  obtrusiveness 
increase  in  proportion  to  the  pressure  of  the  neces 
sities  which  they  pretend  to  be  able  to  relieve. 
Such  was  the  case  when  Spain  was  discovered  to  be 
in  the  deplorable  (inancial  condition  of  which  we 
have  given  but  a  feeble  sketch.  Visionary  project 
ors  and  crafty  schemers  pullulated  at  Court.  The 
Cortes  complained  of  those  charlatans,  who,  they 
said,  were  molesting  by  their  importunities  the  King 
and  his  ministers  ;  who  succeeded  in  obtaining  from 
them  long  and  repeated  audiences  ;  and  who,  if  their 
propositions  were  listened  to,  would  finish  devour 
ing  what  remained  of  the  substance  of  the  Kingdom.* 
They  cautioned  the  King  against  lending  too  favor 
able  an  ear  to  the  trumperies  of  those  quacks  who 

*  Petition,  No.  10. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  291 

pretended  to  have  made  such,  wonderful  discoveries 
in  the  field  of  political  economy.  Among  the  nu 
merous  propositions  offered  to  the  Government, 
there  was  one,  however,  which  was  favored  by  some 
members  of  the  Cortes.  The  author  of  it  was  a  man 
of  some  distinction  for  his  erudition  and  literary 
attainments.  His  name  was  Simon  Abril.  In  an 
address  to  the  King  he  made  this  remark  :  ''Hav 
ing  observed,  in  the  course  of  my  investigations, 
prompted  as  they  were  by  my  zeal  for  the  service 
of  your  Majesty,  that  the  pecuniary  embarrassments 
of  the  State  have  been  produced  by  the  wars  of 
Germany  and  the  Low  Countries,  which  have  been 
undertaken  against  heretics  and  rebels  in  defence  of 
the  Church  and  the  Holy  Catholic  faith,  I  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is  just  to  look  to  the 
Church  for  the  remedy."  He  then  suggested  a 
mode  of  taxing  the  Clergy  during  twenty  years, 
by  which  a  sufficient  sum  would  be  obtained,  during 
that  lapse  of  time,  to  extricate  the  national  treasury 
out  of  its  difficulties,  without  any  real  detriment  to 
any  particular  individual.  It  appears  that  this 
project  had  been  first  presented  by  Simon  Abril  to 
the  Council  of  Finance,  who  treated  it  lightly,  like 
many  other  plans  of  notorious  extravagance.  Ee- 
pulsed  in  that  quarter,  Abril  applied  to  the  King, 
and  in  a  communication  to  his  Majesty  said,  with 
much  pathos,  "I  know*  that  there  will  be  no  lack 

*  Archive  de   Simancas,   Eat.  Leg.  163.     Yo  se  que  no  ban  de  faltar 
gentes  que  este  mi  trabajo  y  estudio  que  jo  e  puesto  en  servicio  de  V.  M. 


292  PHILIP   II.   OF  SPAIN. 

of  people  who  will  find  fault  with  the  conceptions 
which  I  have  placed  at  the  service  of  your  Majesty, 
and  who  will  endeavor  to  discredit  them.  There 
fore,  I  supplicate  your  Majesty,  by  the  entrails  of 
Jesus  Christ  crucified,  to  hear  all,  but  to  decide  for 
yourself,  and  to  notice  that,  in  the  whole  common 
wealth,  there  is  not  a  body  of  men  on  whom  hands 
may  be  laid,  in  such  pressing  circumstances,  with  so 
much  justice  and  less  prejudice.  Your  Majesty  will 
also  take  into  consideration  how  tired  the  people  are 
of  paying  so  much  annually  to  the  Clergy,  etc."  This 
Simon  Abril  must  have  been  a  bold  man,  indeed, 
and  it  is  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  Inquisition  did 
not  devise  some  means  to  get  hold  of  him.  ITis 
suggestions  were  not,  of  course,  of  such  a  nature  as 
to  be  acceptable  to  Philip.  Near  two  centuries  and 
a  half  were  to  elapse  before  the  overgrown  and  un 
natural  prerogatives  of  the  Clergy  could  be  success 
fully  attacked,  and  before  their  colossal  acquisitions 
in  lands,  churches,  seminaries,  convents,  monas 
teries  and  other  sorts  of  property  were  to  be  thor 
oughly  subverted. 

Although  the  Clergy  were  exempt  from  taxation, 
yet  they  had  voluntarily  granted,  for  many  years 
past,  an  annual  subsidy,  of  420,000  ducats,  for  the 
object  of  building,  arming  and  keeping  up  sixty  gal 
leys  in  the  Mediterranean  to  check  the  depredations 

lo  disacrediten,  6  a  lo  menos  traten  de  disacreditable  ;  y  asi  suplico  a 
V.  M.  por  los  entranas  de  Jesu  Christo  crueificado  que  oyga  a  todos,  y 
mas  a  si  mismo,  y  considere  que  en  toda  la  masa  de  la  republica  no  hay 
parte  de  que  tan  sin  perjuicio  y  con  tanta  justicia  se  pueda  echar  mano 
para  un  negocio  tan  urgente  ;  y  mire  quand  fatigado  esta,  &. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  293 

of  the  Moslem  Corsairs,  but  this  sum  had  since 
been  gradually  diverted  to  other  purposes.  The 
galleys  had  rotted  away,  or  were  remaining  idle 
and  neglected  in  several  ports  from  the  want  of 
crews  and  many  other  things,  which,  of  course, 
could  not  be  had  without  pay.  The  consequence 
had  been  that  the  turbaned  rovers  had  been  embold 
ened  to  land  frequently  on  the  coasts  of  Spain,  and 
to  spread  far  and  wide  the  desolation  which  we  have 
before  mentioned.*  The  Cortes  begged  that  this 
annual  subsidy  of  420,000  ducats  be  applied  to  its 
original  destination,  f  The  manufacturing  of  pow 
der  had  become  an  exclusive  privilege.  The  natural 
result  ensued  —  the  powder  was  execrable.  The 
Cortes  very  judiciously  remonstrated  against  the 
continuation  of  such  a  policy.  They  also  reproduced 
a  petition  which  had  been  already  presented  to  the 
Crown  in  15 48.  In  its  style  and  sentiments  it  shows 
in  a  striking  light  what  may  be  called  the  local  color. 
No  wine  ever  tasted  more  strongly  of  the  soil  by 
which  it  is  produced.  It  is  characteristic  of  Spain 
and  of  the  epoch.  "  Our  predecessors,"  they  said, 
"  supplicated  your  Majesty  not  to  permit  the  intro 
duction  into  these  Kingdoms  of  baubles,  glassware, 
dolls,  fancy  knives  and  other  knick-knacks  which 
came  from  abroad.  These  articles  are  unnecessary 
to  the  support  of  human  life,  and  yet  we  exchange 
gold  for  them  just  as  if  we  were  Indians.  If,  be 
cause  they  were  obtained  for  little  money,  this  evil 

*  See  p.  126,  chap.  IV.  of  tins  volume.        f  Petition,  No  11. 


294  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

was,  at  that  time,  of  a  limited  nature,  now  a  great 
amount  of  pure  gold  and  silver  is  extracted  from 
these  Kingdoms  for  manufactured  articles  of  these 
metals,  containing  however  much  alloy,  which  come 
from  France,  and  consist  in  chains,  tinsel  ornaments, 
"brass  and  gold  wires,  rosaries,  false  stones,  colored 
glassware  and  other  trinkets,  which  are  sold  at  first 
for  large  sums  on  account  of  their  novelty,  and 
which,  in  the  end,  the  vendors  themselves  show  to 
be  of  no  value  by  parting  with  them  at  very  low 
prices.  Next  comes  another  invention  and  novelty 
which  they  sell  again  very  high.  Thus  there  is 
nothing  but  buying,  and  wasting  an  infinite  quantity 
of  money,  as  long  as  life  is  in  the  body.  Nothing  ot 
any  value  is  got  for  it  in  return.  All  these  things 
turn  out  to  be  worthless  at  last,  whilst  in  the  mean 
time  the  gold  and  silver  which  had  been  acquired 
with  so  much  labor,  and  which  had  been  procured 
from  the  Indies  and  the  remotest  parts  of  the  world, 
are  carried  away  from  these  Kingdoms."  They  there 
fore  supplicated  His  Majesty  to  prohibit  the  intro 
duction  of  those  articles  and  the  selling  of  them  by 
any  French  or  other  foreign  pedlers,  in  any  manner 
whatever,  "  because  among  such  traders  who  travel 
ed  over  the  whole  country  under  the  pretext  of 
trafficking  in  pins,  combs  and  rosaries,  there  were 
many  spies,  and  because  those  foreigners  took  all 
the  gains  and  profits  out  of  the  hands  of  the  natives." 
This  petition,  founded  on  false  and  contracted  notions 
of  political  economy,  was  of  the  nature  of  those 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN".  295 

which  Philip  always  received  favorably.  Hence  he 
did  not  fail  to  gratify  the  Cortes  on  this  occasion 
with  ready  and  ample  compliance.  The  importation 
and  sale  of  the  described  articles  was  forbidden, 
under  the  penalty  of  confiscation  and  of  paying 
besides  as  much  as  they  were  estimated  to  be 
worth.* 

The  last  session  of  the  Cortes  in  the  reign  of 
Philip  began  in  1593,  one  year  after  the  adjourn 
ment  of  those  who  assembled  in  1588.  One  of  their 
first  acts  was  to  complain  that  many  laws  of  the 
realm,  although  useful  and  necessary,  had  fallen 
into  desuetude,  or  were  set  aside,  or  not  executed, 
"  much  to  the  discredit  of  the  law  and  lawgivers." 
They  remarked  with  too  much  truth  that  this  was  a 
chronic  infirmity  in  Spain.f  They  prayed  that  the 
majesty  of  existing  laws  be  vindicated,  and  that  sta 
bility  and  vigor  be  secured  to  the  enactments  of 
future  legislation.  To  this  the  King  assented.  They 
prayed  that  the  tax  called  "  Cruzada,"J  and  the  tax 
known  as  the  "  Subsidio  y  escusado,"  which  was  one 
levied  on  the  Clergy  by  virtue  of  a  bull  of  the  Holy 
See,  be  invariably  employed  in  keeping  up  the  arm 
ies  and  fleets  which  were  destined  for  the  defence 
of  the  realm  and  the  Catholic  faith,  and  that  they 
be  not  diverted  to  other  purposes  ;  that  the  comp- 

*  General  proceedings  of  the  Cortes  of  Madrid,  who  met  in  1588.  Print 
ed  in  1593. 

f  Lafuente's  History  of  Spain,  p.  444,  vol.  XIV. 

\  It  was  a  tax  which,  by  a  special  grant  of  the  Pope,  was  paid  to  the  King, 
of  Spain  by  his  subjects  for  permission  to  eat  eggs  and,  cheese  in  Lent 


296  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

trollers  of  the  exchequer  be  instructed  not  to  vio 
late  the  privileges  and  franchises  of  the  people  ;  that 
the  faculty  granted  by  former  Cortes  to  equip  priva 
teers  for  the  guard  and  defence  of  the  coasts  be 
permitted  to  have  its  full  effects  ;  that  the  Clergy 
be  prevented  from  acquiring  lands  and  tenements  in 
mortmain,  in  accordance  with  the  wish  expressed 
"an  infinite  number  of  times,"  by  the  Cortes.  As 
to  this  last  request,  so  often  reproduced,  *  Philip 
went  on  answering,  until  the  grave  closed  over  him, 
"  that  he  would  look  into  it,  and  do  what  would  be 
expedient  in  the  matter."  Another  object  of  com 
plaint  on  their  part  was,  that  the  peasantry  were  not 
paid  for  the  sacrifices  they  had  made  to  furnish  pro 
visions  and  supplies  of  all  sorts  to  the  armies  of  His 
Majesty.  They  represented  that,  in  order  to  fulfill 
this  patriotic  duty,  estates  had  been  sold,  or  debts 
incurred,  and  that  many  persons  were  ruined  in 
consequence  of  it.  They  insisted  on  the  necessity 
of  indemnifying  promptly  those  who  had  thus  suffered 
for  the  service  of  the  Commonwealth.  They  also 
desired  some  reforms  concerning  the  Alcabalas,f  with 
a  view  to  having  them  more  justly  established  and  less 
oppressive  for  certain  classes.  These  Cortes  further 
suggested  many  ameliorations  in  relation  to  the 
judiciary  and  to  the  system  of  political  economy 
then  prevailing  in  Spain.  All  their  petitions,  even 
those  which  were  short-sighted  and  erroneous  in 


*  Lafuente's  History  of  Spain,  p.  444,  vol.  XIV. 
t    Alcabalas  are  duties  levied  on  all  sales. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  297 

principle,  show  that  they  were  animated  with  an 
earnest  and  sincere  desire  to  improve  the  condition 
of  their  country.  But  Philip  was  impervious  to 
their  suggestions. 

We  have  said  before,  we  believe,  that,  with  the 
accession  of  the  Austrian  dynasty,  there  had  begun 
a  struggle  between  the  liberties  and  franchises  which 
were  the  natural  growth  of  Spain,  on  one  side,  and 
the  absolutism  which  had  been  imported  from  Ger 
many,  on  the  other.  One  of  the  adversaries  had 
finally  triumphed  in  the  fields  of  Yillalar  and  in  the 
streets  of  Saragoza.  The  Cortes  were  the  embodi 
ment  of  the  popular  element,  and  Philip,  during  his 
long  reign,  pursued  with  indefatigable  pertinacity 
the  ancestral  policy  of  rooting  out  what  was  to  his 
race  a  traditional  subject  of  terror  and  hatred.  He 
had  but  too  well  succeeded,  as  we  have  demonstrat 
ed.  The  Cortes  had  been  stripped  of  the  robust 
power  which  they  had  formerly  possessed.  They 
could  no  longer  make  laws,  or  refuse  their  assent  to 
anything  the  Crown  desired.  All  that  which  they 
were  permitted  to  do  was  to  present  plans  and  pro 
jects,  accompanied  by  humble  prayers  for  their 
adoption,  and  we  have  seen  the  way  in  which  those 
prayers  were  received.  They  had,  however,  con 
tinued  for  a  long  time  to  claim  as  their  prescriptive 
privilege,  that  the  Crown  should  not  legislate  without 
their  concurrence.  But,  gradually  debased  and 
humiliated,  they  had  lost  so  much  of  their  antique 
spirit  as  tacitly  to  concede  to  the  King  the  right  to 


298  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

frame  laws,  decrees,  or  ordinances,  without  consult 
ing  them.  They  now  contented  themselves  with 
begging  that  his  Majesty  be  graciously  pleased  not 
to  promulgate  any  law,  or  publish  any  edict,  whilst 
they  were  in  session,  before  ascertaining  if  they  had 
any  observation  to  address  to  him  on  the  subject, 
any  modification  to  propose,  or  objection  to  point 
out,  "because.7'  they  said,  "  the  Representatives  of 
the  people  were  bound  to  know  better  than  the 
King  and  his  ministers  the  condition  of  the  country 
at  large,  and  the  peculiar  necessities  of  each  prov 
ince."  They  finally  concluded  with  this  phrase, 
which  was  tantamount  to  signing  with  their  own 
hands  the  death  warrant  of  their  political  existence  : 
"  His  Majesty's  Council  *  will,  nevertheless,  retain 
the  same  faculty  which  they  had  before,  to  do  what 
they  please,  notwithstanding  what  they  may  hear 
from  the  Cortes."  This  declaration,  of  course,  con 
signed  that  formerly  august  and  energetic  body  to 
the  tomb  of  the  Capulets.  Then  Philip  probably 
felt  that  his  work  was  accomplished,  and  turned  his 
mind,  with  the  gloomy  satisfaction  peculiar  to  his 
temperament  and  to  his  family,  to  the  contemplation 
of  his  own  sepulchre  in  the  Escorial,  convinced,  as  he 
was,  that  he  would  leave  his  feeble  successor  in  the 
undisturbed  possession  of  the  most  despotic  power 
in  Christendom,  and  that  he  had,  with  the  pneumatic 
engines  he  had  so  skillfully  contrived,  pumped  out 

*  Que  al  consejo  le  quedaba  la  misma  facultad,  habiendo  oido  al  reino, 
para  hacer,  sin  embargo,  lo  que  tuviera  por  mas  conveniente 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  299 

of  his  subjects  their  hereditary  love  of  liberty,  and 
that  iierce  spirit  of  independence  which  had  so  long 
checkmated  the  encroachments  of  their  Monarchs. 
He  in  fact  died  shortly  after.  But  comprehensive, 
humble  and  abdicative  as  had  been  the  concession 
of  the  Cortes,  it  failed  to  conciliate  the  haughty 
despot,  whose  pride  seems  to  have  been  intensified 
by  his  triumph.  His  reply  to  what  we  shall  call 
the  piteous  groan  of  his  prostrate  Cortes  was  :  "  It 
'  is  not  proper*  to  make  any  innovation  in  this  mat 
ter,  because  when  our  Council  deems  anything  ex 
pedient,  it  is  done.  On  such  suitable  occasions  as 
may  offer,  what  the  Cortes  desire  will  be  considered." 
It  is  consolatory  to  think  that,  neither  in  the  Spain 
of  the  present  day,  nor  in  any  other  country  where 

\    ^c 

a  representative  government   is   established,  such 
imperial  insolence  would  be  tolerated. 

Philip,  Count  of  Flanders,  who  married  that  un 
fortunate  daughter  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  the 
mad  Queen  Juana,  was  the  representative  of  the  / 
rights  and  pretensions  of  the  House  of  Burgundy. 
Until  the  death  of  Charles  the  Bold,  with  whom  had 
expired  the  male  line  of  that  princely  race,  the 
Court  of  Burgundy  had  been  one  of  the  most  mag 
nificent  in  Europe.  The  household  of  those  wealthy 
Sovereigns  was  established  on  the  most  extensive 
and  gorgeous  scale  of  feudal  pomp  and  pride.  The 

*  Quo  no  es  bien  que  se  haga  en  ello  novedad,  porque  cuando  el  consejo 
ve  que  conviene,  se  hace,  y  en  las  occasiones  que  se  offrecieren  se  mira- 
ra  lo  que  convenga. 


300  PHILLIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

menial  offices,  or  at  least  offices  with  menial  appel 
lations,  were  filled  by  the  highest  nobles,  and  the 
etiquette  which  surrounded  the  Prince  was  a  barrier 
between  him  and  even  his  magnates.  It  seemed 
intended  to  make  the  distance  between  them  still 
greater  and  more  impressive.  Under  the  auspices 
of  the  Count  of  Flanders  and  afterwards  of  his  son, 
the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  the  Royal  household  of 
Spain  had  been  transformed  and  organized  after  the 
fashion  which  had  prevailed  in  Burgundy,  much  to 
the  mortification  of  the  Spaniards.  The  Cortes  had 
more  than  once  remonstrated  against  this  innovation. 
In  Spain  the  King  had  been  but  the  first  gentleman 
of  the  Kingdom.  He  was  the  head  of  the  nobility, 
but  not  a  master  to  be  approached  with  servility. 
The  Grandees  were  his  peers,  although  he  was 
armed  with  greater  power  and  his  person  more 
sacred,  and  they  kept  their  hats  on  their  heads  in 
his  presence.  Some  degree  of  familiarity  was  not 
excluded.  The  haughtiness  and  ceremonial  of  the 
Court  of  Burgundy  had  been,  therefore,  a  distasteful 
importation.  Philip  was  again  addressed  on  that 
subject  by  the  Cortes  who  had  assembled  in  1593, 
and  who  availed  themselves  of  the  opportunity  of 
fered  by  the  marriage  of  his  daughter  Isabel  Clara 
Eugenia  with  the  Archduke  Albert,  to  whom  he  had 
ceded  Flanders  in  consideration  of  that  union. 
"  The  Court  of  Castile,"  they  said,  ^  should  no  longer 
be  kept  in  the  style  of  Burgundy,  when  Castile  no 
longer  retains  any  of  the  provinces  which  belonged 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  301 

to  that  Principality."  For  these  reasons  they 
begged  the  King  to  reform  his  household  and  to 
return  to  the  old  forms  and  usages  to  which  they 
had  been  accustomed,  and  which  were  distinguished 
for  greater  simplicity.  This  was  rational  and  natu 
ral.  The  King's  answer  was  abrupt  and  dry  :  "  We 
have  considered  about  it,  and  we  shall  continue  to 
consider."* 

The  Cortes  of  1593  remained  in  session  until  1598, 
when  the  King  died.  A  session  of  five  years,  to 
frame  ninety-one  petitions,  out  of  which  only  twenty- 
one  were  granted !  They  must  have  been  highly 
disgusted  with  this  dreary  waste  of  time,  and  heart 
ily  ashamed  of  their  nothingness  and  impotency. 
What  did  Philip  mean  by  having  this  useless  and 
cumbersome  appendage  about  his  person,  unless  as 
a  body-guard  of  political  eunuchs  in  imitation  of  the 
mutilated  attendants  kept  up  by  those  Eastern 
Monarchs  whose  despotism  he  had  emulated  to  ex 
ercise  ?  Nothing,  we  think,  gives  a  better  idea  of 
Philip's  character  than  his  deportment  toward  the. 
Cortes.  There  was  certainly  no  revolutionary  ten 
dency  in  that  body.  Their  antique  fidelity,  their 
chivalrous  loyalty,  their  devotion  to  himself  person 
ally,  their  traditional  conservatism,  could  not  be  the 
object  of  a  doubt,  and  yet  he  stood  before  them  as 
grim  and  forbidding  as  the  pillars  of  Hercules  be 
yond  which  they  were  not  to  pass,  and  he  assumed 

*  Lo  hemos  visto,  7  se  ira  mirando  en  ello.    General  acts  of  the  Cortes 
from  1592  to  1598,  promulgated  and  printed  in  Valladolid,  in  1604. 


302  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

to  be  the  champion  of  an  immobility  which  they 
were  not  to  disturb.  He  was  constitutionally  and 
systematically  opposed  to  progress  of  any  kind,  and 
he  wanted  them  to  feel  that,  if  he  permitted  the 
slightest  movement  onward,  the  impulse  was  not  to 
corne  from  any  other  source  than  himself.  Hence 
his  fixed  answer  :  "No  innovation,"  whenever  they 
ventured  to  propose  any  reform  of  any  importance. 
We  cannot  but  fancy  that,  if  Philip  had  been  gifted 
with  omnipotence,  he  would  have  delighted  in  creat 
ing  a  world  without  motion.  Creeping  things  might, 
perhaps,  have  been  tolerated,  but  the  wind  would 
certainly  have  been  excluded,  and  he  would  have 
said  to  the  ocean  :  "  Peace,  be  still." 


CHAPTEE     IX. 

WE  shall  now  take  a  brief  review  of  the  intel 
lectual  condition  of  Spain  under  Philip  II,  and 
ascertain  how  far  the  arts,  the  sciences  and  litera 
ture  were  entitled  to  him  for  the  state  in  which  they 
were  during  his  long  reign.  The  better  to  fulfill  this 
task,  we  must  go  back  to  the  accession  of  Isabella 
to  the  throne  of  Castile,  for  it  is  impossible  to  ap 
preciate  correctly  the  intellectual  and  moral  condi 
tion  of  a  nation  at  any  fixed  period  of  its  existence, 
without  connecting  it  with  the  history  of  the  fifty  or 
eighty  years,  if  not  more,  which  preceded  it,  as. 
the  extent,  copiousness  and  capacity  of  a  stream 
are  better  known  by  tracing  it  up  to  its  source,  or 
at  least  ascending  it  to  some  distance,  than  by  such 
a  limited  survey  as  the  eye  of  the  beholder  can  em 
brace  from  the  point  where  he  stands.  The  thoughts 
of  man  are  not  self-created  ;  they  have  their  spirit 
ual  ancestry  ;  they  are  of  high  or  base  lineage  ;  and 
their  genealogy,  more  than  any,  is  entitled  to  an  im 
mortal  record.  There  are  epochs  when  events  after 
events,  of  an  incalculable  magnitude,  succeed  each 
other  in  a  particular  country,  which  seems  then  to  have 
been  specially  chosen  by  Providence  for  their  devel 
opment  ;  and  they  shoot  into  future  ages  an  influence 
which  is  to  be  felt  by  unborn  generations.  Those 

(303) 


304  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

events  come  like  a  Promethean  band  of  giants  with 
torches  of  sacred  fire  in  their  hands,  not  stolen  from 
but  committed  to  them  by  Heaven,  to  light  up,  as 
they  stalk  onward  through  the  long  avenue  of  the 
human  race,  those  lamps  which  nature  has  placed 
there,  awaiting  the  igniting  touch  which  the  course 
of  time  is  sure  to  bring.  On  such  occasions,  the 
intellectual  fluid  darts  along  those  invisible  and 
mysterious  wires  which  bind  nations  together  with 
sympathetic  ties.  By  the  rapidity  of  its  motion  it  is 
heated  into  flame,  and  a  glorious  illumination  bursts 
upon  the  embellished  world.  The  reign  of  Ferdin 
and  arid  Isabella  in  Spain  is  one  of  those  epochs. 

The  Monarchy  which  the  Goths  had  established 
in  that  country  had  been  driven  into  the  cave  of 
Covodonga  by  the  invasion  of  the  Arabs.  The  foot 
of  the  followers  of  Mahomet  was  planted  on  the 
Cross  from  the  Pyrenees  to  the  two  seas  which  bathe 
the  rocky  shores  of  the  Iberian  Peninsula.  The 
natives,  in  the  extremity  of  their  disasters,  which 
were  such  as  had  seldom  visited  any  community, 
did  not  despair  of  their  religion  and  of  their  coun 
try.  They  came  out  of  the  bowels  of  the  earth  to 
fight,  until  they  wrested  a  portion  of  the  surface  of 
their  territory  from  the  grasp  of  the  invaders,  and 
gradually  erected  petty  Kingdoms  within  frontiers 
defended  by  art  or  by  nature,  and  frequently  by 
both.  These  petty  kingdoms  fought  against  each 
other ;  they  also  fought  against  the  Arabs,  and 
against  the  Moors,  the  less  polished  successors  of 


PHILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN.  305 

the  Arabs.  The  races  which  Africa  and  Asia  had 
sent  to  Spain  shortly  subdivided,  like  their  enemies, 
into  small  principalities,  and  struggled  against  each 
other  without  ceasing  their  hostilities  against  the 
Spaniards.  Interminable  wars  followed — the  Chris 
tian  holding  the  Infidel  by  the  throat,  and  only 
relaxing  his  deadly  efforts  for  a  hostile  spring  upon 
his  fellow- Christian — the  Infidel  still  hunting  inces 
santly  the  "  Christian  dog"  with  the  same  undying 
combination  of  fanatical  contempt  and  hatred,  and 
only  turning  from  the  pursuit  to  shed  Moslem  blood 
with  all  the  merciless  fury  of  sectarian  zeal,  with 
the  lust  of  ambition  contending  for  power,  and  with 
the  insatiable  spirit  of  vengeance  entertained  by 
tribe  against  tribe  from  the  traditional  memory 
of  real  or  fancied  wrongs.  The  heart  grows  faint, 
and  the  head  swims  with  a  dizzy  sensation,  when 
one  looks  back  at  that  ocean  of  blood,  whose  tumult 
uous  waves  yet  send  the  distant  echo  of  their  dismal 
surge  reverberating  to  our  ears  through  the  empty 
halls  arid  porticoes  of  those  centuries  which,  like  im 
perishable  monuments  of  the  past,  loom  up  before  us 
in  the  hoary  twilight  which  they  borrow  from  time. 
One  wonders  how  the  ordinary  avocations  which 
are  indispensable  to  the  support  of  life  could  have 
been  pursued  amidst  those  eternal  massacres  ;  and 
yet  there  is  a  wonderful  fascination  in  those  scenes  ; 
for  not  only  did  the  peasant  run  his  plow  and  till  the 
soil ;  but  even  the  poet  sang,  the  musician  tuned  his 
lyre,  the  arts  bloomed  with  profuse  luxuriance  in 

20 


306  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

the  lap  of  danger,  and  ripened  into  productions 
which  have  hardly  been  excelled  ;  the  sciences  pro 
gressed,  although  with  halting  steps  ;  and  chivalry, 
elevating  purified  love  and  honor  to  the  level  of  re 
ligion,  placed  them  on  the  same  altar,  and  descend 
ed  into  the  arena  with  its  gorgeous  panoply,  to 
defend  these  three  united  objects  of  its  worship. 
The  ruthlessness,  however,  of  continued  devasta 
tions  becomes  too  oppressive  to  behold,  and  one 
would  soon  turn  away  in  disgust  from  the  appalling 
sight,  if  not  allured  and  consoled,  amidst  those  hor 
rors,  by  frequent  glimpses  of  the  better  nature  of 
man  transfiguring  itself  into  an  angel  of  light.  We 
see  deeds  so  noble  that  they  make  us  forget  aught 
else  ;  we  hear  sentiments  which  throw  a  celestial 
glow  into  our  soul ;  we  feel  subdued  by  an  irresist 
ible  sympathy,  and  we  readily  grant  the  honors  of 
an  apotheosis  to  transcendant  virtues,  which  we 
accept  as  a  compensation  for  so  much  baseness  and 
so  many  atrocities.  It  was  an  Iliad  of  eight  hun 
dred  years,  or  rather  a  myriad  of  epic  poems  sur 
passing  each  other  in  the  ever  diversified  magnifi 
cence  of  their  poetical  details,  such  as  the  genius  of 
Homer  himself  could  not  have  conceived,  and 
teeming  with  traits  of  heroism  and  magnanimity 
which,  in  their  historical  realities,  appeal  more 
intensely  to  the  imagination  and  touch  the  heart 
more  deeply,  than  the  fabulous  exploits  of  the  invul 
nerable  Achilles.  At  last,  the  Moslems  recede  be 
fore  the  advancing  step  of  the  soldiers  of  the  Cross, 


PHILIP   II.   OF   SPAIX.  307 

and  their  possessions  are  almost  confined  to  the 
territorial  paradise  of  Granada.  The  small  Chris 
tian  Kingdoms  are  fused  either  into  Castile,  or 
Aragon,  with  the  exception  of  Navarre,  which, 
however,  was  soon  to  lose  its  independence  and  in 
dividual  existence.  Castile  and  Aragon  remain, 
bestriding  the  battle  -  field  and  confronting  each 
other  like  Ajax  and  Hector,  with  rival  prowess 
and  mutual  admiration,  whilst  the  scales  of  fate 
hang  over  them  in  suspense.  Fortunately,  instead 
of  engaging  in  mortal  combat,  they  embrace  in  a 
holy  union  by  the  marriage  of  Ferdinand  and  Isa 
bella.  Worldly  wisdom  in  Ferdinand  extends  the 
hand  of  love  and  protection  to  genius  in  Isabella, 
combined  with  evangelical  piety,  and  an  inflexible 
rectitude  of  judgment  and  purpose. 

Providence  seems  to  have  been  preparing  the 
way  for  that  unity  of  government  which  Spain  was 
destined  soon  to  possess.  The  dynasties  which  had  ori 
ginally  occupied  the  thrones  of  Navarre  and  Aragon 
had  been  struck  with  sterility ;  they  had  become 
extinct,  and  the  sceptres  of  these  two  Kingdoms  had 
passed  into  the  hands  of  members  of  the  Royal  Family 
of  Castile.  The  House  of  Trastamara  therefore  ruled 
the  whole  of  the  Peninsula  with  the  exception  of  Por 
tugal.  It  was  a  step  in  the  right  direction,  although 
it  was  not  yet  visible  how  it  would  lead  to  the  de 
sired  goal.  There  was  little  probability  that  Ferd 
inand,  at  the  time  he  was  born,  would  ever  be 
King  of  Aragon.  There  was  as  little  probability, 


308  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

at  Isabella's  birth,  that  she  was  destined  to  be 
Queen  of  Castile,  and  yet,  contrary  to  all  expecta 
tions,  the  brow  of  each  was  encircled  with  the  crown 
which  seemed  forbidden  to  their  hopes.  The  glit 
tering  prize  was  secured  to  them  by  the  commission 
of  crimes  in  which  they  had  no  share,  and,  as  it 
were  through  divine  mercy,  individual  wickedness 
was  made  instrumental  in  working  out  the  general 
good.  There  appeared  also  to  be  insurmountable 
obstacles  to  their  marriage,  and  yet  those  obstacles 
were  overcome.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were  ten 
chances  to  one  that  the  Sovereigns  of  two  rival  and 
contiguous  Kingdoms  would  quarrel  in  the  exercise 
of  their  respective  prerogatives.  As  husband  and 
wife,  whom  so  many  temptations  surrounded,  it  was 
at  least  an  even  chance  that  the  course  of  their 
wedded  life  would  not  run  smooth.  But  they  hap 
pened  to  be  so  wonderfully  fitted  for  each  other, 
that,  both  in  their  conjugal  and  political  relations, 
the  utmost  harmony  prevailed  until  death  put  an 
end  to  their  union.  Thus  unity  existed  in  duality, 
which  was  the  more  extraordinary,  because  that 
duality  was  composed  of  two  Sovereigns  armed  with 
independent  power.  Providence  had  certain  de 
signs,  and  we  shall  see  what  a  concatenation  of 
circumstances  brought  on  their  final  accomplish 
ment.  One  of  those  preliminary  designs  was  that 
Spain  should  become  powerful,  because  it  was  nec 
essary  that  it  should  be  so  for  reasons  which  will 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  309 

soon  be  discovered.     The  tool  was  to  be  shaped  to 
suit  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  to  be  used. 

The  Kingdom.._QjLArag.on  had  been  impoverished 
by  the  foreign  and  the  civil  wars  in  which  her  two 
last  Sovereigns  had  been  engaged.  One  of  them, 
Alfonso  the  Fifth,  had  conquered,  it  is  true,  the 
Kingdom  of  Naples,  and  had  filled  the  world  with 
the  fame  of  his  exploits  But,  by  a  wise  dispensa 
tion,  military  glory,  which  is  so  enticing,  has  its 
drawbacks,  and  the  Cortes  had  said  to  Alfonso : 
"  Sire,  this  war,  of  which  we  have  not  yet  seen  the 
end,  has  so  depopulated  your  hereditary  dominions, 
that  the  fields  remain  uncultivated,  and  we  have 
been  compelled  to  pay  four  hundred  thousand  flor 
ins  for  the  ransom  alone  of  prisoners.  Industry 
and  commerce  are  paralyzed.  We  see  no  other 
remedy  to  those  evils  than  the  presence  of  our 
King.'7  Seduced  however  by  the  meretricious  charms 
of  his  Italian  conquest,  which  he  preferred  to  the 
rough  loyalty  of  his  Aragonese  subjects,  he  lingered 
in  Naples  until  his  death.  Instead  of  governing 
from  Aragon,  his  acquired  domain,  says  Lafuente  of 
that  Monarch,  in  his  History  of  Spain,  it  was  from 
that  foreign  soil  that  he  governed  Aragon.  He  left 
his  Kingdom  of  Naples  to  his  bastard  son,  Don  Fer 
nando,  and  his  Spanish  dominions  to  his  brother 
John,  King  of  Navarre.  Under  this  new  Monarch, 
turbulent,  self-  willed  and  pugnacious  as  he  was, 
whom  his  subjects  surnamed  the  Great,  and  the 


310  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

Hercules  of  Aragon,  and  who  retained  to  the  age  of 
eighty-two  all  the  fire  and  ambition  and  almost  the 
bodily  strength  of  which  he  had  given  so  many 
proofs  in  his  long  career,  the  Aragonese  had  not  the 
opportunity  to  recover  from  their  exhaustion.  That 
exhaustion  was  such  that  when  John,  at  the  end  of 
his  reign,  wished  to  march  to  the  defence  of  his 
town  of  Perpignan  in  the  province  of  Roussillon, 
which  Louis  XI.  of  France  was  threatening,  he  had 
to  borrow  money  from  one  of  his  Barons  and  to  sell 
his  mantle  of  ermine.  When  he  died  shortly  after, 
he  was  so  poor,  that,  to  provide  for  the  expenses 
of  his  funeral  and  the  support  of  those  who  belonged 
to  his  household,  it  was  necessary  to  sell  all  the 
articles  of  gold  and  silver  which  were  found  in  his 
wardrobe,  and  to  procure  ten  thousand  florins  on 
pledging  his  jewels  and  even  his  decoration  of  the 
Golden  Fleece.  It  may  be  consolatory  to  those  who 
are  suffering  from  pecuniary  distress  to  know,  that 
he,  of  whom  we  write,  and  who  was  in  the  sore  pre 
dicament  which  we  have  described,  wore  seven 
crowns — those  of  Navarre,  Aragon,  Catalonia,  Ya- 
lencia,  Mallorca,  Sardinia  and  Sicily.  A  wise  ad 
ministrator  and  a  prudent  sovereign  was  clearly 
required,  or  Aragon  could  not  have  been  in  a  condi 
tion  to  join,  a  little  later,  in  the  accomplishment  of 
those  great  achievements  which  were  still  in  the 
womb  of  the  future.  That  administrator  and  that 
King  providentially  came  forth  in  the  person  of  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  311 

astute,  thrifty  and  politic  Ferdinand,  the  husband  of 
Isabella. 

Although  the  condition  of  Aragon  was  not  pros 
perous,  yet  it  was  enviable,  if  compared  with  that 
of  Castile.  When  Henry  IV.,  the  imbecile  prede 
cessor  of  Isabella,  closed  his  worthless  existence, 
that  Kingdom  was  in  such  a  state  of  anarchy  as 
almost  to  amount  to  a  complete  dissolution  of  civil 
ized  society.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  express  in 
adequate  terms  the  degradation  of  the  throne,  the 
annihilation  of  all  the  resources  of  the  common 
wealth,  the  helpless  beggary  and  personal  infamy 
of  the  Monarch,  the  insolence  and  peculations  of  his 
favorites,  the  arrogance  and  excesses  of  the  nobles, 
the  poverty  and  demoralization  of  the  inferior 
classes,  the  temerity  and  ferocity  of  organized  bands 
of  depredators,  who  openly  destroyed  life  and  pro 
perty,  the  extent  and  depth  of  public  immorality, 
and  the  furious  outbreaks  of  the  worst  passions, 
which  swept  over  the  land  like  hurricanes  of  evils. 
Few  there  were  who  did  not  live  in  open  violation 
of  the  whole  decalogue,  if  full  faith  is  to  be  given  to 
the  chronicles  of  that  age.  The  Oastilians  seemed  to 
be  a  nation  of  malefactors,  although  deep  in  that  bed 
of  corruption  there  lay  the  seeds  of  the  noblest  vir 
tues  and  of  the  most  dazzling  qualities  of  the  head 
and  heart,  as  will  subsequently  appear.  The  castles 
of  the  magnates  were  like  caverns  of  robbers  ;  trav 
ellers  were  pillaged  and  murdered  on  the  high  roads, 


312  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

and  the  fruits  of  such  rapines  were  exposed  for  sale 
without  concealment  on  the  public  squares  of  the 
most  populous  cities.*  The  officers  of  the  Crown 
were  regardless  of  the  authority  which  had  commis 
sioned  them,  and  were  no  better  than  licensed 
plunderers.  The  dissoluteness  of  the  Clergy  of  both 
sexes  was  truly  frightful.  An  Archbishop  was 
driven  away  from  his  Episcopal  See  by  a  popular 
tumult,  for  having  attempted  to  do  violence  to  a 
youthful  bride  who,  before  the  sacred  altars  of  reli 
gion  and  in  his  presence,  had  just  pledged  her  love 
and  fidelity  to  the  husband  of  her  choice.  Another 
Archbishop  led  an  army  against  his  King,  whose 
crown  he  wished  to  transfer  to  that  King's  brother. 
That  haughty  and  turbulent  prelate,  at  the  head  of 
ambitious  nobles  followed  by  their  vassals,  erected 
in  the  field  of  Avila  a  platform  on  which  he  placed 
the  effigy  of  the  monarch  decorated  with  all  the  royal 
insignia.  Then  the  sceptre  was  wrested  from  the 
inanimate  hands  which  held  it,  the  diadem  was  torn 
from  the  brow,  the  mantle  from  the  shoulders,  and 
the  sword  from  the  belt.  All  this  was  done  amidst 
the  acclamations  of  the  multitude  who  witnessed  the 
burlesque  and  extravagant  ceremony.  At  last,  the 
rebellious  priest  himself  stamped  his  foot  on  the 
breast  of  the  prostrated  image  of  his  master,  whom 
he  proclaimed  to  be  no  longer  the  anointed  of  the 
Lord.  Castile  had  reached  that  state  of  putrefaction 
when  a  nation  must  be  either  regenerated  by  the 

*  Lafuente's  History  of  Spain,  Introduction,  vol.  I,  p.  102. 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  313 

sword  of  a  foreign  conqueror  and  the  infusion  of  new 
"blood  into  its  veins,  or  be  saved  from  perishing  in 
the  tumultuous  chaos  of  its  own  creation  by  the  in 
tervention  of  a  native  genius,  such  as  Heaven  some 
times  vouchsafes  to  earth,  to  ride  the  whirlwind  and 
substitute  order  to  confusion.  That  genius  was 
wanted  to  operate  the  resurrection  of  Castile,  and 
that  genius  came.  It  came  in  the  person  of  Isabella 
— a  woman,  so  radiant  with  purity  and  piety,  so 
free  from  most  of  our  human  imperfections,  that  she 
seemed  an  inspired  being,  a  missionary  from  above. 
She  said  :  "  Lazarus,  come  forth,  and  Lazarus  arose 
from  the  dead." 

Hardly  had  that  illustrious  personage  ascended 
the  throne,  when  the  scene  changed  as  if  under  the 
wand  of  a  magician.  A  Portuguese  army  which  had 
penetrated  into  Castile  is  driven  back  in  shame  and 
confusion.  The  French  abandon  the  province  of 
Guipuzcoa,  which  they  had  invaded,  and  the  wily 
Louis  XL  is  compelled  to  submit  to  a  peace  ad 
vantageous  to  Castile.  Evil  doers,  high  or  low, 
poor  or  rich,  are  chastised  with  an  impartial  hand  ; 
the  receptacles  of  crime  are  swept  away,  the  tur 
bulent  prelates  sue  to  be  reconciled  with  the  Hoyal 
authority  which  they  were  in  the  habit  of  contemn 
ing,  the  haughty  magnates  are  humbled  and  curbed, 
the  rebel  chiefs  implore  their  pardon,  the  roads  and 
by-ways  are  freed  from  robbers,  and  the  shops  teem 
with  merchandise  ;  artisans,  peasants  and  all  laborers 
peacefully  pursue  their  avocations,  agriculture  flour- 


314  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

ishes,  commerce  is  encouraged  and  fills  the  Kingdom 
with  hitherto  unknown  wealth,  the  tribunals  of  jus 
tice  are  almost  as  pure  as  in  the  fabulous  days  of 
Themis,  the  Cortes  legislate  in  perfect  freedom,  the 
revenues  of  the  State  are  re-established,  the  empty 
treasury  is  replenished,  the  Crown  is  radiant  with 
renewed  splendor,  and  its  mandates  are  equally 
respected  in  the  battlemented  mansion,  in  the  modest 
hut,  in  the  cave  of  the  hermit  and  in  the  palace  of 
the  Cardinal.  The  nobles  serve  their  Queen  on 
bended  knees  with  the  loyalty  of  faithful  subjects 
and  the  high-souled  devotion  of  knights  of  romance. 
The  commons,  prostrated  before  her  with  filial  rever 
ence  and  enthusiastic  gratitude,  worship  her  like  a 
divinity.  Well  did  she  deserve  such  adoration. 
The  social  body  had  been  a  corpse  ;  she  made  it  a 
thing  of  life  and  action,  and  reanimated  its  inert 
limbs  with  Herculean  strength.  She  had  reconsti 
tuted  into  a  compact  and  vigorous  nation  one  which, 
but  lately,  had  been  a  jumble  of  jarring  elements. 
She  found  the  Royal  mantle  dragging  in  the  mud, 
and  torn  into  rags  by  the  hand  of  discord  ;  she 
transformed  it  into  a  vesture  of  glory.  Under  her 
miraculous  influence  a  corrupt  people  had  suddenly 
become  a  moral  one.*  With  prodigious  activity 
and  perseverance  she  had  made  true  the  improbable. 
She  had  purged  the  diseased  land  of  its  infirmities 
and  restored  to  it  health,  vigor,  and  youth.  She  had 

*  Lafuente's  History  of  Spain.     See  Introduction,  vol.  I,  p.  122. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  315 

organized  tribunals  and  presided  over  them.  She 
had  caused  the  laws  to  be  compiled  and  arranged 
into  digests.  Like  St.  Louis,  she  had  administered 
justice  herself  on  more  than  one  occasion.  She  had 
overthrown  the  fortresses  of  the  oppressors,  and 
penetrated  into  the  humblest  dwelling  to  invite 
shrinking  merit  to  her  Court.  She  had  given  daily 
proofs  of  the  most  exalted  virtue  as  a  Sovereign,  a 
wife  and  a  mother.  She  had  abashed  vice,  checked 
immoral  habits,  and  sobered  extravagance,  not 
merely  by  her  decrees,  but  also  by  her  example. 
That  example  had  been  the  best  of  all  sumptuary 
laws.  The  emanations  of  her  piety  and  purity  had 
pervaded  the  social  atmosphere  and  subdued  the 
deleterious  miasma  with  which  it  was  loaded.  From 
the  temple  where  she  prayed  like  a  saint,  she  passed 
to  the  battle-field  like  the  goddess  of  war.  The 
same  hand  which  erected  and  decorated  altars  held 
the  reins  of  the  fiery  steed  who,  with  distended 
nostrils  and  eyes  of  lightning,  swept  along  the  ser 
ried  ranks  of  armed  battalions.  She  was,  at  the 
same  time,  the  watchful  mother  of  cloistered  virgins 
and  of  grim-visaged  warriors.  Where  there  was  a 
want,  there  was  her  ministering  care.  She  built 
sanctuaries,  and  took  fortresses  ;  she  organized  ar 
mies,  and  established  schools  and  universities.  She 
reformed  the  Clergy,  restored  its  ancient  discipline, 
and  made  them  worthy  of  the  consideration  which 
she  bestowed  upon  them.  Well  did  she  know  how 
to  honor  them  after  having  made  them  honorable. 


316  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

As  a  woman  and  a  Christian  she  bowed  meekly  be 
fore  the  Holy  See,  but,  as  a  Sovereign,  she  was  in 
flexible  in  resisting  the  systematic  course  of  Papal 
invasions  and  usurpations.  Whilst  under  her  keep 
ing,  the  rights  of  the  Crown  of  Castile  never  gave 
way  to  the  unfounded  ones  claimed  by  the  Tiara  of 
Eome.  She  presided  over  Cortes  and  tournaments 
with  the  same  serene  majesty  ;  she  superintended 
the  education  of  the  people  with  as  much  care  as  the 
education  of  her  children  ;  she  wielded  the  sceptre 
and  she  plyed  the  needle  with  equal  diligence  and 
skill.  Amidst  all  her  overwhelming  occupations, 
and,  although  she  not  unfrequently  passed  whole 
nights  in  dictating  long  dispatches  to  her  secretaries, 
she  found  leisure  to  be  a  student,  and  she  even 
learned  Latin.  She  patronized  the  arts,  the  sciences 
and  literature  with  judicious  love.  She  governed 
Kingdoms  in  Europe  and  America  with  conscientious 
zeal  and  scrupulous  attention,  whilst  she  did  not  neg 
lect  any  of  the  minute  details  of  the  administration 
of  her  household.  She  gave  daily  some  hours  to  her 
private  devotions,  but,  in  looking  up  to  Heaven,  she 
did  not  forget  the  interests  which  had  been  intrusted 
to  her  on  earth.  Without  the  transformation  which 
was  due  to  Isabella,  much  less  than  Aragon  would 
Castile  have  been  able  to  perform  the  part  which 
she  was  called  upon  to  act,  and,  therefore,  according 
to  the  decrees  of  Providence,  that  transformation 
took  place  at  the  right  moment.  The  finger  of  fate 
had  marked  on  the  horologe  of  time  the  hour  for  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  317 

final  triumph  of  Christianity  in  Spain,  for  the  des 
truction  of  what  remained  there  of  Moslem  domina 
tion,  and  for  a  unit}7  of  government  under  the  not 
distant  reign  of  Charles  Y.  That  hour  had  struck, 
and  the  agents  of  Divine  will  had  appeared  in  Fer 
dinand  and  Isabella.  Under  their  guidance,  Castile 
and  Aragon,  linked  together  by  religious  faith  and 
conjugal  love,  well  trained  and  provided  for  the  in 
tended  crusade,  were  ready  to  march  against  the 
last  stronghold  of  the  infidels,  and  to  substitute  the 
Cross  for  the  Crescent  on  the  summit  of  the  Alham- 
bra.  It  had  been  a  wooden  cross  in  the  hand  of 
Pelagio,  when,  issuing  from  the  cave  of  Covodonga, 
he  began  the  struggle  which  was  to  last  eight 
hundred  years.  It  was  of  gold,  when,  under  Fer 
dinand  and  Isabella,  it  gleamed  resplendent  on  the 
towers  of  Granada. 

If  the  human  mind  must  necessarily  become  pol 
ished,  if  it  must  teem  with  fertility  and  glow  with 
inspiration,  when  it  is  made  familiar  with  the  sub 
lime  pages  of  Homer,  Yirgil  and  Tasso,  and  when  it 
is  capable  of  appreciating  and  assimilating  such  am 
brosial  food,  what  must  be  the  impulse  given  to  its 
imagination  and  other  faculties  of  the  brain,  when, 
instead  of  reading,  a  nation  acts  epic  poems  which, 
in  interest  and  sentiment,  in  the  nature  of  the  sub 
ject  and  in  all  the  attributes  of  poetry,  certainly 
equal,  if  they  do  not  surpass,  the  gorgeous  concep 
tions  of  the  bards  we  have  named  ?  Hence  the  age 
of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  was  an  age  of  mental  de- 


318  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

velopment,  because  the  intellect  and  soul  of  man 
were  on  the  stretch  to  rise  up  to  the  grandeur  of 
everything  he  heard  and  saw.  The  war  of  Granada, 
like  the  Trojan,  was  an  epopee  of  ten  years  from  the 
fall  of  Alhama  to  the  fall  of  the  capital  of  Boabdil, 
but  its  episodes  were  more  brilliant  and  varied,  and 
its  consequences  far  greater.  "It  is  remarkable/7 
says  Prescott,  in  a  note  to  the  History  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella,*  "that  the  war  of  Granada,  which  is 
admirably  suited  in  all  its  circumstances  to  poetical 
purposes,  should  not  have  been  more  frequently 
commemorated  by  the  epic  muse."  But  the  immor 
tal  historian  himself  answered,  we  think,  his  own 
remark,  although  he  did  not  seem  conscious  of  hav 
ing  given  that  answer,  when  he  said,  a  few  lines 
after  :  "  Mr.  Irving's  late  publication,  the  '  Chronicle 
of  the  Conquest  of  Granada/  has  superseded  all 
further  necessity  for  poetry,  and,  unfortunately  for 
me,  for  history."  This  is  precisely  the  reason  why 
the  epic  muse  has  been  silent  on  the  subject.  It  is 
because  Poetry  feels  that  she  is  superseded  by  His 
tory,  and  that  the  picture  which  is  before  her  is  so 
illuminated  with  innate  brilliancy,  that  the  most 
dramatic  gorgeousness  of  coloring  which  fancy  could 
supply  and  art  could  use,  would,  if  applied  to  it, 
look  like  those  uncalled-for  ornaments  which  rather 
shade  than  set  off  the  attractions  of  a  woman  whom 
nature  has  made  exquisitely  beautiful.  Hence  the 

*  Prescott's  History  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  p.  109,  vo!.  II. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  319 

war  of  Granada  has  remained  the  almost  exclusive 
domain  of  history — a  domain  which,  inviting  as  it 
is,  has  seldom  been  approached  by  the  poet,  or  in 
vaded  by  the  bold  step  of  the  novel-writer.  It 
would  have  been  as  if  Titian  had  attempted  to  add 
more  vivid  hues  to  the  rainbow.  Therefore  all  those 
who,  be  it  in  verse  or  in  prose,  have  endeavored  to 
do  more  than  give,  like  Washington  Irving,  "a  po 
etical  aspect  to  historical  accuracy,"  have  miserably 
failed,  and  produced  but  vapid  compositions.  If  the 
records  of  that  mighty  struggle  delight  posterity,  its 
stirring  incidents,  at  the  time  of  its  existence,  ab 
sorbed  the  attention  of  Europe,  because  its  successful 
issue  was  to  be  an  event  of  the  utmost  importance 
to  her,  as  well  as  to  Spain.  It  was  not  merely  the 
triumph  of  a  nation  resuming  its  complete  entity, 
recovering  its  usurped  territory,  and  wiping  off  the 
never-to-be-forgotten  affront  of  subjugation.  It  was 
the  triumph  of  civilization  over  barbarism,  of  a  su 
perior  religion  over  an  inferior  one,  of  the  sanctity 
of  European  marriage  over  the  looseness  of  Eastern 
polygamy,  of  chastity  over  lust,  of  persuasion  over 
dictation,  of  freedom  over  slavery.  For  Christian 
ity  recommends  that  proselytism  shall  come  from 
the  inspired  lips,  and  not  from  the  strong  hand.  Its 
mission  is  to  operate  conversions  with  the  tongue  of 
fire,  and  not  with  the  flashing  scimitar.  It  raises 
woman  to  angelical  purity,  and  Islamism  degrades 
her  to  beastly  sensuality.  "It  breaks,''' says  La- 
fuente,  "  whilst  Islamism  rivets,  the  chains  of  man.'7 


320  PHILLIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

For  these  reasons  the  whole  of  Christendom  rejoiced 
at  the  fall  of  Granada;  but  there  was  one  other 
cause  for  gratulation  which  was  full}"  appreciated  by 
Europe.  She  had  not  been  able  to  prevent  Con 
stantinople  from  passing,  not  long  before,  into  the 
possession  of  the  Infidels,  and  it  was  now  with  un 
disguised  terror  that  she  saw  herself  threatened 
from  that  advanced  post  by  the  formidable  force  of 
the  recently  established  Ottoman  Empire.  It  was 
a  consolation  and  an  encouragement  to  her,  when 
she  heard  of  the  end  of  the  Moslem  domination  in 
Spain.  It  invigorated  the  hope  of  resistance  to  the 
new  colossus,  and  added  to  the  resources  of  attack 
or  defence.  If  the  Crescent  had  risen  to  its  merid 
ian  on  the  banks  of  the  Bosphorus,  it  had  set  for 
ever  on  the  plains  of  Granada  and  in  the  mountain- 
pass  which  had  echoed  the  "  last  sigh  "  of  the  Moor. 
If  Christianity  wept  in  the  Orient  like  the  captive 
daughters  of  Sion,  in  the  Occident  she  pealed  forth 
her  exulting  hymns  of  joy  and  thanksgiving  like 
Miriam.  It  is  indeed  difficult  to  measure  the  pro 
portions  of  an  event  of  such  political,  moral  and  re 
ligious  magnitude,  and  of  such  importance  not  only 
to  Spain,  but  to  mankind. 

To  the  conquest  of  Granada,  and  to  the  triumph 
of  the  Cross  over  the  Crescent  in  battle,  and  of  the 
dogmas  of  Christianity  over  the  precepts  of  Mahom- 
etanism  succeeded  another  stupendous  event — the 
discovery  of  America.  There  needed  an  Isabella 
to  understand  Columbus  and  to  open  to  him  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  321 

paths  to  the  unknown  world  which  he  had  divined, 
and  there  needed  a  Columbus  to  complete  the  glory 
of  Isabella.  In  both  it  was  piety  which  illumined 
their  genius  and  gave  it  the  direction  which  it  fol 
lowed.  It  pleases  God  to  create  such  glorious  sym 
pathetic  affinities  when  they  are  necessary  to  carry 
on  His  designs.  The  blow  given  to  Islamism,  the 
rise  of  Spain  to  the  rank  of  a  first-rate  power, 
growing  compact  and  gigantic  into  an  indissoluble 
unity,  and  dazzling  the  other  nations  with  the 
scintillations  of  her  diadem  of  newly  acquired 
glory,  the  discovery  of  America  with  the  mar 
vellous  deeds  by  which  it  was  accompanied,  and 
the  measureless  wealth  which  it  brought  out  of  the 
bowels  of  an  hitherto  unknown  part  of  the  globe, 
would  have  been  sufficient  to  operate,  not  only  in 
the  country  which  was  more  directly  affected  by 
these  events,  but  also  in  the  rest  of  the  civilized 
world,  a  radical  revolution  in  household  ideas  and 
domestic  economy,  in  politics  and  commerce,  in  the 
arts,  morals,  wants  and  manners  of  the  people. 
But,  as  if  this  was  not  enough,  Spain,  who  seemed 
destined  to  be  pent  up  within  herself,  like  an  en 
chanted  giant  round  whom  a  magic  spell  had  thrown 
up  mountains  and  spread  oceans,  as  guards  and 
warders  to  watch  over  him,  burst  loose  and  poured 
her  invincible  battalions  over  Europe,  and  particu 
larly  into  Italy — into  that  land  with  which,  at  that 
time  especially,  the  mind  could  not  come  into  con 
tact  without  being  inoculated  with  its  superior  civil- 
21 


322  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

ization  ;  for  by  the  influence  of  religion,  of  the  fine 
arts,  the  sciences  and  literature,  Rome  still  ruled 
the  world,  when  her  arms  had  become  effete  and 
powerless.  Over  the  tombs  of  the  Caesars  the  chiv 
alry  of  Spain  and  France  met  in  deadly  opposition 
and  emulous  rivalry.  Gonsalvo  de  Cordova,  in  his 
Italian  campaigns,  gained  the  surname  of  the  "  Great 
Captain,"  and  secured  for  his  country  the  conquest 
of  Naples  and  Sicily,  with  the  restoration  also  of  the 
Eoussillon.  It  looked  as  if  fortune  had  adopted 
Spain  and  made  of  her  a  petted  child.  These  events 
were  like  meteors  which  had  chased  each  other,  and 
which,  each  in  its  turn,  had,  within  short  intervals, 
irradiated  the  firmament  j  they  were  also  like  earth 
quakes  which  had  shaken  Spain  and  a  great  portion 
of  Europe  ;  and  if  the  human  mind  had  been  asleep, 
it  would  have  been  awakened  by  the  illumination 
and  the  commotion.  But  it  was  not  asleep.  On 
the  contrary,  it  was  on  the  alert,  and  the  discovery 
of  the  compass  and  of  printing,  recently  made, 
seems  to  have  been  vouchsafed  by  Providence  to 
facilitate  the  happening  of  the  events  which  we  have 
mentioned,  the  dissemination  of  their  knowledge  and 
the  perpetuation  of  their  consequences. 

The  human  mind  is  like  a  hive.  The  dormant 
mass  seems  dead  j  but  shake  it  and  you  will  find 
that  it  is  alive.  Another  shake — and  your  ears  are 
struck  by  a  low  and  confused  hum — a  murmur  of  dis 
content  perhaps  at  its  repose  being  disturbed — and 
then  comes  out  a  flight  of  thoughts,  which,  like  busy 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  323 

bees,  scatter  far  and  wide,  some  distilling  honey, 
and  others  checking  intruders  with  their  sharp 
stings.  It  is  not  astonishing  that,  in  such  a  reign, 
during  which  the  mind  and  soul  were  so  much  exci 
ted,  literature,  the  arts,  and  sciences  should  have 
acquired  such  a  prodigious  development,  particularly 
when  fostered  by  the  favor  of  a  Princess  who  patron 
ized  them  with  fond  love  and  intelligent  apprecia 
tion.  Pompey  had  boasted  that,  if  he  stamped  his 
foot,  armies  would  spring  up  from  the  bosom  of 
Italy.  At  the  gentle  beckoning  of  Isabella,  there 
sprang  up  in  Spain  a  host  of  men  who  distinguished 
themselves  as  theologians,  jurists,  historians,  physi 
cians,  astronomers,  naturalists,  lyrical  and  dramatic 
poets,  linguists,  musicians,  and  successful  explor 
ers  through  the  whole  range  of  human  knowledge. 
The  literary  movement  extended  from  the  Moorish 
ballad  and  the  romance  of  chivalry  to  the  grave 
studies  of  the  universities  ;  and  the  most  gigantic 
typographical  work  of  the  time,  the  Polyglot  Bible, 
was,  not  long  after,  the  production  of  Spain.  With 
the  encouragements  of  the  Queen,  the  fair  sex  entered 
into  competition  with  the  other  in  the  cultivation  of 
the  arts,  in  scientific  attainments  and  in  literary 
pursuits.  There  were,  among  others,  Beatrix  de 
Galindo,  surnamed  "  the  Latin,'7  Lucinda  Medrano, 
who  held  a  professorship  in  Salamanca,  Francisco 
de  Lebrija,  who  gave  lessons  of  rhetoric  in  the  uni 
versity  of  Alcala,*  Maria  de  Meridoza,  who  was 

*  Lafuente's  History  of  Spain,  p.  76,  vol.  II. 


324  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

famous  for  her  knowledge  of  the  Greek,  Hebrew, 
Arabic,  and  other  languages,  and  Maria  de  Pacheco, 
of  illustrious  birth,  who  shone  by  her  erudition  under 
the  reign  of  Isabella,  and  who,  in  the  days  of  Charles 
Y .,  left  an  immortal  name  by  the  heroism  with  which 
she  defended  the  liberties  of  Castile  as  the  wife  and 
widow  of  the  celebrated  and  unfortunate  Juan  de 
Padilla.  The  fame  of  this  intellectual  development 
reached  even  remote  climes,  and  the  learned 
Erasmus  expressed  his  admiration  of  it  from  the  in 
terior  of  Holland.  This  development  would  prob 
ably  have  been  greater  under  Isabella,  Charles  V. 
and  Philip  II.,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  establish 
ment  of  the  Inquisition,  that  thought-killing  institu 
tion  and  antagonist  of  human  progress. 

The  reign  of  the  insane  Joana,  or  rather  of  her 
husband,  the  Count  of  Flanders,  was  but  a  flitting 
shadow  which  passed  over  this  brilliant  horizon. 
The  reign  of  Charles  V.,  by  its  grandeur,  was  no 
less  favorable  than  that  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
to  stimulate  all  the  intellectual  faculties  and  energies 
of  the  people.  That  age  of  battles  and  religious 
schisms,  was,  nevertheless,  the  golden  age  of  Spanish 
literature.  The  wars  of  Charles  had  put  Spain 
in  frequent  and  intimate  relations  with  Italy,  and 
Italy  had  begun  to  Italianize  Spain.  The  marvellous 
works  of  Leonardo  da  Yinci,  Michael  Angelo,  Rapha 
el,  Titian,  Correggio,  and  other  artists  were  not  lost 
upon  the  grim  warriors  whose  tastes  were  formed 
by  those  masterpieces.  It  gave  rise  to  those  schools 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  325 

which  were  established  in  Spain,  and  which,  in  their 
turn,  became  as  famous  and  as  original  in  their  pro 
ductions  as  those  which  at  first  they  had  imitated. 
The  Spanish  mind  could  not  also  but  be  influenced 
by  the  literature  of  the  country  of  Dante,  Ariosto, 
Tasso  and  Petrarch  ;  and  many  of  the  Spanish  poets 
adopted  the  prosody  and  the  forms  of  composition 
which  met  with  popular  favor  in  the  land  which  they 
admired,  and  in  which  they  had  so  long  sojourned, 
either  as  students,  or  as  warriors,  or  in  a  diplomatic 
capacity.  Oastellejos,  Yillegas  and  other  partisans 
of  the  old  Spanish  school  opposed  this  innovation 
and  censured  the  authors  who  were  guilty  of  it,  call 
ing  them  "  Petrarchists."  But  the  new  Italian 
school  prevailed,  and  remained  at  last  a  distinct 
species  of  Spanish  literature.  The  Didactic  style 
was  also  cultivated  in  verse  and  prose.  As  to 
dramatic  literature,  it  progressed  with  less  ease 
than  the  lyrical  and  the  didactic,  because  the  Clergy 
was  opposed  to  it,  and  prohibited  the  comedies  of 
Torres  Naharro,  who  had  turned  his  attention  to 
this  kind  of  composition.  He  was,  however,  follow 
ed  with  more  success  by  the  actor  and  author,  Lope 
de  Eueda,  whose  comedies  were  so  popular  that  it 
was  difficult  to  stop  their  representations  in  various 
cities  of  Andalusia  and  Castile.  It  was  art  in  its 
infancy,  it  is  true,  and  the  scenic  decorations  were 
singularly  primitive.  Still  their  effect  was  new  and 
striking  at  the  time,  although  they  would  have 
seemed  ridiculous  to  us,  and  Lope  de  Eueda  may 


326  PHILIP    IT.    OF   SPAIN. 

be  c<  nsidered  as  the  founder  of  the  Spanish  theatre 
—that  theatre  which  was  soon  to  become  the  admir 
ation  of  the  world  and  a  school  for  other  nations. 

Satirical  compositions  and  light  sportive  pieces 
were  among  the  productions  which  obtained  the 
most  success.  In  both  the  illustrious  Diego  Hurtado 
de^JVIendoza  distinguished  himself  pre-eminently. 
He  was  a  lyric  poet,  the  author  of  satires  in  prose, 
an  ingenious  novel  writer,  a  grave  historian,  a 
sagacious  and  active  diplomatist,  a  loyal,  frank 
and  austere  member  of  the  Council  of  the  Emperor. 
His  sportive  novel,  Lazarillo  de  Tonnes,  is  a  faith 
ful  and  animated  delineation  of  the  customs  of  the 
epoch,  and  acquired  a  reputation  which  it  has  re 
tained  to  this  day.  Not  only  has  it  been  translated 
into  several  languages,  but  new  and  beautiful  edi 
tions  of  it  have  been  published  even  in  this  century. 
As  to  historical  literature,  it  seemed  to  keep  pace 
with  the  aggrandizement  of  the  Spanish  nation, 
and  to  rise  in  its  merits  and  style  in  proportion  to  the 
importance,  fecundity  and  variety  of  its  materials. 
Hitherto  there  had  been  but  mere  chronicles  ;  now 
there  were  histories.  Morales,  Garibay  and  Zurita, 
made  their  appearance.  Francisco  Lope  de  Gomara, 
Bernal  Diaz  del  Castillo,  Bartolome  de  las  Casas,  re 
corded  the  discoveries  and  exploits  of  their  country 
men  in  the  New  World,  and  the  erudite  Gonzalo  de 
Oviedo  published  his  "Natural  and  General  His 
tory  )f  the  Indies."  As  a  philosopher  and  humanist, 
Luis  Yivez  gained  for  himself  an  European  reputa- 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  327 

t.on,  and  it  was  said  that  William  Bude,  Erasmus 
of  Rotterdam,  and  Luis  Yivez  of  Spain,  formed  a 
great  triumvirate  of  learning  which  could  not  be 
matched.  In  a  country  so  religious  as  Spain  was, 
and  in  an  age  in  which  the  Lutheran  schism  took 
place,  it  is  natural  that  theological  studies  should 
have  been  a  subject  of  special  importance  and  favor, 
and  that  profound  theologians  should  have  arisen  as 
they  did,  who  were  cited  as  the  honor  of  Spain,  and 
who  acted  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  famous  and 
protracted  Council  of  Trent.  A  peculiarity  of  the 
reign  of  Charles  V.,  which  is  perhaps  no  less  a  pecu 
liarity  of  the  Spanish  character,  was,  that  there 
seemed  to  be  a  poetic  inspiration  in  the  incessant 
clash  of  arms,  and  that  the  laurels  of  Parnassus 
grew  spontaneously  in  blood-stained  fields  ;  for  all 
those  who  tuned  the  lyre,  or  wielded  the  pen  of 
authorship,  were,  with  the  exception  of  ecclesiastics, 
stout  warriors  whose  swords  had  learned  to  flash  in 
the  van  of  battles.  The  chronicler,  Perez  de  Guzman, 
had  distinguished  himself  as  a  soldier  in  the  combat 
of  La  Higuera  ;  Lope  de  Ayala.  who  figured  in  the 
battles  of  Najeria  and  Aljubarrota,  was  made  pris 
oner  when  fighting  stoutly,  and  wrote  of  military 
events  in  which  he  had  taken  an  active  part.  Jorge 
Manrique  commanded  armed  expeditions,  fought  at 
Calatrava  and  the  siege  of  Yelez,  whilst  he  composed 
elegies  as  soft  as  a  woman's  sigh.  Bernal  Diaz  del 
Castillo  accompanied  Cortez  to  Mexico,  and,  after 
being  present  at  one  hundred  and  nineteen  battles, 


328  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN". 

this  Ajax  turned  historian  and  transmitted  to  pos 
terity  a  most  valuable  account  of  the  conquest  of 
New  Spain.  Boscan,  whilst  he  joins  the  conquering 
hosts  of  his  countrymen  who  subdue  Italy,  intro 
duces  into  Spanish  poetry  the  Italian  metre  of 
eleven  syllables.  Hurtado  de  Mendoza,  whilst  ful 
filling  the  duties  of  a  general  and  of  an  ambassador, 
finds  time  to  write  melodious  verses  and  playful 
tales  with  versatile  genius,  and  with  the  same 
grave  pen  with  which  he  records  the  last  war  of 
Granada.  Garcilasso  follows  Charles  in  all  his 
campaigns,  shows  the  courage  of  a  hero  at  the  tak 
ing  of  the  Goleta  and  of  Tunis,  and  the  graceful 
author  of  Salicio  and  Nemoroso  dies  of  a  wound 
received  when  scaling  fortifications.*  Thus,  during 
the  reigns  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  of  Charles 
V.,  the  intellect  of  Spain,  radiant  with  poetry  amidst 
the  turmoils  of  war,  reminds  us  of  the  attributes  of 
that  beauteous  God,  who  drove  the  car  of  the  orb  of 
day  through  clouds  and  storms,  who  sped  with 
lofty  disdain  the  unerring  shaft  at  the  object  of  his 
wrath,  and  who  charmed  the  immortals  with  the 
tunes  of  his  lyre. 

*  Lafuente's  History  of  Spain.    Introduction,  p.  164,  vol.  I. 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  329 


THE  reign  of  Philip  was  a  continuation  of  that  of 
Charles  in  literature  as  well  as  in  politics.  There 
was  the  same  association  of  martial  spirit  and  love 
of  letters.  Lope  de  Yega,  who,  as  a  dramatic  writer, 
astonished  the  world  by  his  genius  and  his  incom 
parable  fecundity,  carried  the  arquebuse  as  a  simple 
soldier  in  the  invincible  armada.  Ercilla  met  the 
brave  Indians  of  the  Arauco  in  many  an  engage 
ment,  and  wrote  on  his  shield,  or  on  the  carriage  of 
a  cannon,  his  epic  poem,  the  "  Araucana."  Cervantes 
behaved  heroically  at  the  battle  of  Lepanto,  where 
he  lost  one  of  his  hands  ;  and  with  the  other,  which 
had  known  the  weight  of  the  chains  of  captivity  in 
Algeria,  he  wrote  comedies  and  novels,  and,  pre 
eminent  among  the  rest,  his  immortal  and  inimitable 
Don  Quixote.  The  Muses  no  longer  needed  the  re 
pose  and  tranquillity  of  peace  to  make  their  voice 
heard,  as  the  nightingale  waits  for  the  calm  and 
silence  of  a  summer  evening  to  exhale  its  melodious 
notes.  The  Nine  Sisters  had  become  amazons  ;  they 
had  assumed  the  garb  of  Pallas,  and  sang  as  sweetly 
in  the  presence  of  Mars  as  in  that  of  Apollo. 

The  works  of  illustrious  writers,  which  had  become 
classical,  served  to  establish  the  grammar  and  pros- 


330  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

ody  of  the  Spanish  language,  which  acquired  at  the 
time  all  the  idiomatic  terseness,  virility,  richness 
and  harmony  for  which  it  has  ever  since  been  dis 
tinguished.  Poetry  and  prose  were  then  marked  by 
a  splendor  of  diction  which  delights  us  to  this  day, 
when  reading  the  best  authors  of  the  epoch.  The 
first  difficulties  had  been  surmounted  under  the  pre 
ceding  reign.  The  pioneers  had  opened  the  way, 
and  the  glorious  procession  of  intellectual  laborers, 
provided  it  kept  within  certain  restrictive  bounds, 
could  advance  with  less  obstacles  under  a  Prince 
who  had  more  fondness  than  his  predecessor  for 
books  and  for  Spanish  literature,  whose  mind  had 
received  a  considerable  degree  of  cultivation,  who 
liked  to  write  himself,  and  who  had  even  a  mania 
for  acting  the  pedagogue  and  correcting  the  pro 
ductions  of  others.  It  is  true  that  the  Inquisition 
was  an  incubus  on  the  intellect  of  Spain,  but,  al 
though  it  was  far  more  terrible  under  Philip  than 
under  his  father,  although  it  showed  itself  intolerant, 
inexorable  and  harsh  beyond  description,  in  relation 
to  all  theological  or  philosophical  doctrines,  or  on 
any  matter  which  was  in  the  least  connected  with 
religion,  yet  it  seemed  to  be  comparatively  indulgent 
to  all  productions  of  the  imagination,  and  to  under- . 
stand  that  it  was  the  political  interest  of  the  Sove 
reign  that  his  subjects  should  amuse  themselves  with 
the  nugoe  serise  of  polite  literature.  One  could  have 
indited  an  ode  to  Apollo  or  to  any  other  mytholog 
ical  G-od  without  peril,  but  one  attempting  to  write 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  331 

with  common  sense  on  government,  philosophy  or 
religion,  would  probably  have  been  burned.  Poetry 
was  an  Alsatia,  or  White  Friars'  privileged  ground, 
where  the  persecuted  mind  was  permitted  to  take 
refuge  and  avoid  the  bailiffs  of  the  Holy  Tribunal. 
Hence  Castilian  poetry  was  cultivated  in  all  its 
forms  with  zealous  devotion,  and  rose  to  a  height 
beyond  which  it  has  never  since  ascended.  It  was 
the  crater  through  which  the  pent  up  subterranean 
fire  sent  upward  its  flames. 

Beginning  *  with  the  class  of  lyrical  compositions, 
we  remark  that  the  example  given  by  Garcilasso 
was  promptly  and  admirably  followed  by  other 
choice  spirits,  who  clothed  elevated  sentiments  with 
elegant  language.  Among  the  galaxy  of  those  in 
spired  bards  beams  the  mild  and  venerable  figure 
of  Father  Luis  de  Leon.  His  poetry  has  all  the 
moral  ingredients  of  his  character,  which  reproduces 
itself  in  his  works  as  accurately  as  his  person  would 
have  been  reflected  in  a  mirror.  There  is  in  him 
no  pomp  of  thought,  no  gorgeousness  of  style,  no 
artistical  arrangement,  but  a  simplicity  not  destitute 
of  elevation,  and  an  amiable  modesty  in  the  midst 
of  intellectual  grandeur.  His  writings  are  impreg 
nated  with  a  subdued  tone  of  pious  restraint,  which 
is  relieved  with  sudden  strokes  of  natural  sublimity, 
and  which  is  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  gentle 

*  It  is  with  pleasure  that  we  acknowledge  how  much  we  are  indebted 
to  the  recent  History  of  Spain  by  Lafuente  in   these  observations  on 

Spanish  Literature. 


332  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

virtues  adorning  the  author.  He  seems,  when  he 
takes  his  pen,  to  be  entering  a  temple,  and  purposely 
to  lower  his  voice.  His  style  is  serene  like  a  tropi 
cal  night,  with  occasional  flashes  of  the  heat  light 
ning  gleaming  on  the  distant  horizon.  His  "  Ode  to 
country  life"  implies  the  existence  of  a  tranquillity 
of  mind  which  descends  on  the  reader  like  a  refresh 
ing  dew.  It  is  worthy  and  indicative  of  the  man, 
who,  after  having  passed  five  years  in  the  dungeons 
of  the  Inquisition,  returned  quietly  to  his  chair  in 
the  University  of  Salamanca,  as  if  nothing  had  hap 
pened,  and  resumed  his  lessons  with  these  words : 
"  As  I  was  saying  to  you  yesterday."  This  allocu 
tion  is,  by  the  by,  a  fair  specimen  of  the  sublime 
simplicity  which  is  sometimes  to  be  found  in  his 
works.  Even  in  his  ode  entitled  "  The  Prophecy  of 
the  Tagus,"  in  which  he  affects  a  more  elevated  tone 
than  is  usual  with  him,  he  prefers  a  pure  and  simple 
to  a  swelling  and  ambitious  diction,  and  rejects  all 
meretricious  ornaments.  His  verse  remains  chaste 
and  unpretending  like  a  young  virgin,  but  his 
thoughts  and  images  move  the  soul  with  a  sort  of 
mild  and  self-possessed  enthusiasm  inspired  by  his 
religious  and  sublime  sentiments.  Lafuente  calls 
him  the  Spanish  Horace,  but  we  cannot  acknowledge 
the  propriety  of  the  expression.  We  cannot  see 
any  resemblance  between  the  two  authors.  The  one 
was  replete  with  the  skeptic  and  epicurean  philo 
sophy  of  the  Augustan  age.  Nuno  est  bibendum — 
"  Let  us  drink  and  be  merry,  for  to-morrow  we  die." 


PHILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN.  333 

The  empty  thunder  of  Jove  has  no  terrors  for  him, 
and  he  delights  in  the  satyr's  dance  and  in  the  en 
ticing  flight  of  the  laughing  nymph.  The  Spanish 
poet  teaches  other  lessons,  and  praises  other  enjoy 
ments.  He  glows  like  the  burning  bush  in  the 
desert,  and  he  draws  his  inspirations  from  the  com 
mandments  of  Jehovah,  There  is  as  much  difference 
between  the  two  authors,  as  there  is  between  Pagan 
ism  and  Christianity. 

The  poetry  of  the  bachelor  Francisco  de  la  Torre 
is  full  of  simplicity  and  tenderness,  like  that  of  Father 
Luis  de  Leon.  His  songs,  his  elegies,  his  pastoral 
compositions  are  easy  and  fluent  and  produce  a 
feeling  of  pleasant  melancholy.  He  reminds  the 
reader  of  a  gentle  stream  running  with  soft  murmurs 
along  verdant  banks  shaded  with  willows.  Even 
his  odes,  which  are  written  in  verses  of  unequal 
metre,  are  full  of  harmony,  and  hardly  is  the  absence 
of  consonance  remarked.  With  less  fluency,  although 
he  sometimes  aspired  to  it,  but  with  more  vigor,  and 
with  a  sort  of  austerity  not  unbecoming  his  triple 
character  as  a  distinguished  warrior,  ambassador 
and  historian,  Diego  Hurtado  de  Mendoza,  of  whom 
we  have  already  spoken,  placed  himself  by  the  side 
of  some  of  the  best  poets  of  the  epoch. 

If  the  modern  doctrine  of  equality  among  men  is  a 
favorite  one  in  political  communities,  and  soothes 
that  human  pride  which  is  so  convenient  a  lever  in 
the  hands  of  demagogues,  certain  it  is  that  this  lev 
elling  rod  is  powerless  in  the  realms  of  the  intellect. 


334  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIX. 

In  them  there  is  a  hierarchy  which  cannot  be  sub 
verted.  "Wherever  the  arts  flourish,  wherever  there 
are  men  who  cultivate  them  with  pride  and  delight, 
there  is  some  prominent  genius  who  assumes  the 
first  place.  It  is  not  an  usurpation,  but  an  acknowl 
edged  royalty,  legitimate  in  its  sway.  The  diadem 
which  it  wears  is  an  irradiation  from  the  brain,  and 
all  bow  before  it  as  before  the  sun.  This  is  what 
took  place  at  this  time  among  the  Spanish  poets. 
They  had  their  prince  in  the  person  of  the  Sevillian 
Fernando  de  Herrera.  surnamed  the  "  Divine.'7  He 
found  the  Spanish  language  as  simple  and  unadorned 
as  a  shepherdess,  save  with  natural  flowers.  He  gave 
it  the  magnificence  of  a  queen  resplendent  with  bar 
baric  pearls  and  starlike  diamonds.  His  imagina 
tion  is  always  on  fire  and  never  gives  any  sign  of 
refrigeration.  His  style  strikes  by  its  elegance  and 
grandeur ;  his  thoughts  soar  aloft  like  uncaged  ea 
gles  ;  the  images  to  which  he  resorts  glitter  like  gold 
undefiled,  and  a  sort  of  musical  accord,  full  of  vigor 
and  melody,  pervades  his  whole  diction.  His  poet 
ical  merits,  however,  are  not  wanting  in  variety, 
for  he  is  sometimes  abrupt,  impetuous  and  bold,  and 
seems  to  play  with  a  whirlwind ;  sometimes  he 
stretches  himself  on  a  bed  of  flowers,  and  his  accents 
become  tender  and  exquisitely  sweet.  But  even 
when  he  unbends,  he  retains  the  richness  and  dig 
nity  of  his  style,  which  has  never  been  equalled  in 
what  is  called  imitative  harmony.  He  is  the  Pindar 
of  Spain.  His  "  Ode  to  John  of  Austria,"  his  "  Hymn 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  335 

on  the  Battle  of  Lepanto,"  and  his  "Elegy  on  the 
Death  of  the  King,  Don  Sebastian,"  although  so  dif 
ferent  in  their  beauties,  are  all  sublime,  and  are 
masterpieces  which  will  forever  remain  as  models 
for  this  kind  of  composition.  Herrera  became  the 
founder  of  a  school  which  may  be  designated  as  the 
"  Ornate,''  and  which,  unfortunately,  soon  degene 
rated  into  exaggeration  of  sentiment  and  extrava 
gance  of  expression.  Some  of  his  imitators,  dis 
daining  sobriety,  became  insupportably  affected  and 
turgid,  and  corrupted  the  public  taste.  Among 
those  who  followed  with  most  credit  in  his  footsteps 
were  the  two  brothers,  Lupercio  and  Bartolome  Ar- 
gensolas,  Francisco  de  Figuerroa,  Fernando  de  Acu- 
na,  and  the  Portuguese  Montemayor,  Saa  de  Miraa- 
da,  and  Melo,  who  attempted  with  felicity  to  write 
Spanish  poetry.  We  must  not  omit  Yicente  Espinel, 
who  inaugurated  a  style  of  versification  called  after 
him,  the  "  Espinela,"  and  Juan  de  Arguijo,  whose 
florid  imagination  and  virility  of  thought  enabled 
him  to  become  one  of  the  most  successful  imitators 
of  Herrera. 

Lope  de  Yega,  better  known  as  a  dramatic  author, 
although  he  excelled  his  countrymen  in  all  styles  of 
poetry,  from  the  short  sonnet  to  the  long-winded 
epopee,  did  not  fail,  of  course,  to  establish  his  pre 
eminence  among  the  lyric  poets.  As  such,  he  in 
troduced  the  poetical  language  into  those  ballads 
and  popular  songs  which  before  had  generally  been 
of  prosaic  simplicity ;  and  into  erudite  poetry  he 


336  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

introduced  familiar  and  unpretending  expressions — 
so  as  to  ennoble  the  former,  and  vulgarize  as  it  were 
the  latter.  The  Spaniards  look  upon  him  as  the 
Phenix  of  geniuses,  as  a  being  in  whom  the  faculties  of 
the  imagination  were  such  as  to  be  considered  truly 
miraculous. 

In  didactic  poetry,  Juan  de  La  Cueva  obtained 
some  reputation,  but  his  works  are  incomplete  and 
destitute  of  method.  He  certainly  was  neither  a 
Horace  nor  a  Boileau,  nor  a  Pope,  and  seemed  not 
to  be  disposed  or  able  to  practice  what  he  purported 
to  teach.  As  to  the  poem  entitled  :  "The  New  Art 
to  write  Comedies,5'  by  Lope  de  Vega,  it  is  rather  the 
vindication  of  the  dramatic  style  of  that  author  than 
a  didactic  work,  although  it  gives  valuable  lessons. 
More  worthy  of  the  name  would  have  been  the  poem 
of  the  Cordovian,  Pablo  de  Cespedes,  on  the  "Art 
of  Painting,'7  had  he  left  us  more  than  mere  frag 
ments  of  it.  If  he  had  finished  and  polished  it,  he 
would  have  added  to  his  great  reputation  as  a 
painter,  a  sculptor  and  antiquarian,  that  of  a  supe 
rior  poet,  for  the  detached  parts  which  we  have  of 
his  poem  are  rich  in  thought,  harmony  and  color 
ing. 

With  regard  to  epic  compositions,  that  most  diffi 
cult  and  elevated  branch  of  poetry,  the  Spaniards 
had  very  little  to  boast  of  in  that  age  of  intellectual 
fertility.  This  may  appear  somewhat  strange,  since, 
several  centuries  before,  when  the  Spanish  language 
was  hardly  formed,  the  admirable  although  rough- 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  337 

hewn  poems  of  "the  Cid,"  and  of  "Count  Fernan 
G-onzales,"  had  given  room  to  hope  for  still  more 
finished  and  beautiful  productions.  Such  well- 
founded  expectations,  however,  were  not  realized. 
There  sprang  up  a  multitude  of  poems,  some  of 
which  on  subjects  worthy  of  the  epic  muse,  but  none 
ever  rose  above  mediocrity.  The  epic  fecundity  of 
Lope  de  Yega  was  as  great  as  his  lyric  and  dramatic 
abundance,  but  he  never  could  reach  the  combina 
tion  of  those  qualities  which  are  required  in  the  epo 
pee.  It  is  impossible  not  to  admire  the  luxuriance 
of  his  imagination,  the  easy  flow  of  his  poetic  vein, 
his  prodigious  facility  of  versification ;  but,  at  the 
same  time,  the  defects  inherent  to  the  precipitation 
with  which  he  wrote  are  but  too  visible.  His  style 
is  loose,  careless,  and  lacks  nerve.  His  metaphors 
are  frequently  offensive  to  good  taste  ;  his  fre 
quent  playing  on  words  is  puerile  and  out  of 
place  ;  his  story  is  unskillfully  jointed  and  put  to 
gether,  and  there  is  too  much  improbability  in  his 
incidents,  episodes  and  characters.  He  fails  both  in 
the  matter  and  in  the  form,  in  the  conception  and  in 
the  ornaments,  not  only  in  the  "  Circe,"  the  "An 
dromeda,"  the  " Serpentary,"  the  "Beautiful  Angel 
ica"  and  other  poems,  but  also  in  the  "  Conquest  of 
Jerusalem,"  which  is  the  most  elaborate  of  all. 
Hence  it  must  be  concluded  that  Lope  de  Yega, 
notwithstanding  the  vastness  of  his  genius,  had  not 
in  him  that  which  constitutes  the  epic  poet.  There 


22 


338  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

was  a  cause  of  debility  in  the  very  excess  of  his 
fecundity. 

Alonzo  de  Ercilla,  the  author  of  the  "  Araucana," 
did  not  propose  to  himself,  says  Lafuente,  in  his  His 
tory  of  Spain,  to  compose  a  poem,  but  to  describe 
in  verse  the  achievements  which  he  had  witnessed, 
and  the  battles  in  which  he  had  acted  a  part.  Thus 
he  neither  could,  nor  attempted  to,  subject  his  work 
to  the  rules  and  conditions  of  an  epic  composition, 
nor  did  the  object  which  he  had  in  view  permit  it. 
He  aimed  at  being  a  historian  more  than  a  poet, 
and,  if  he  appealed  to  poetry,  it  was  more  to  give 
precision  and  brilliancy  to  his  truthful  narrations 
than  to  soar  on  its  wings  into  the  regions  of  fiction. 
But  his  descriptions  of  battles  are  so  full  of  fire,  he 
puts  such  eloquent  and  vigorous  speeches  in  the 
mouths  of  his  personages,  and  there  are  such  gems 
of  beauty  in  the  mass  of  his  imperfect  versification, 
that  the  "Araucana"  is  the  poem  of  that  epoch 
which  is  the  most  appreciated  by  the  Spaniards,  and 
the  best  known  among  other  nations. 

Balbuena,  with  a  much  larger  endowment  of  the 
poetical  element  than  Ercilla,  with  much  more 
richness  of  imagination,  more  elevation  of  ideas,  and 
more  facility  and  flexibility  of  diction,  succeeded 
not  in  giving  an  epopee  in  his  "  Bernardo,"  but  only 
abundant. evidence  of  his  possessing  happy  disposi 
tions  for  the  composition  of  such  a  poem.  He  either 
seems  not  to  be  aware  of  the  difficulties  presented 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIX.  339 

by  the  art  which  he  professes,  or  he  tramples  upon 
them  at  random  and  with  a  heavy  foot.  Rules  and 
precepts  he  treats  as  antagonists  in  his  way,  whom 
he  knocks  down  right  and  left  with  the  ponderous 
battle-axe  of  the  lion-hearted  Richard.  He  is  so 
unequal,  irregular  and  incorrect ;  he  is  so  made 
up  of  revolting  monstrosities  and  of  incompar 
able  beauties,  that,  notwithstanding  merits  which 
must  be  acknowledged  and  admired,  it  is  impossible 
not  to  be  filled  with  insupportable  disgust  in  attempt 
ing  to  read  his  works.  It  is  only  with  a  sweating 
brow,  and  with  the  pickaxe  of  the  miner  in  hand,  that 
one  can  reach  the  pure  gold  hidden  under  such 
heaps  of  rubbish.  In  the  "  Christiad "  of  Father 
Diego  de  Hojeda,  in  the  "  Monserrate  "  of  Yirues, 
in  the  "  Conquest  of  Betica"  by  Juan  de  la  Cueva, 
in  the  "  Tears  of  Angelica  "  by  Luis  Baraona  de  Soto, 
there  are  beautiful  passages,  but  nothing  which,  as 
a  whole,  deserves  to  be  mentioned  as  an  epic  poem. 
It  is  useless  to  allude  to  the  efforts  of  many  other 
authors  who  were  still  less  successful.  Spain  has 
never  been  able  to  this  day  to  produce  a  Tasso,  or 
even  a  Camoens. 

As  to  light  and  fugitive  poetry,  Lope  de  Yega 
gave  to  Spanish  literature  the  "  G-atomaquia,"  a 
poem  on  cats  ;  and  Villaviciosa,  the  "  Mosquea,"  or 
the  Fly.  They  are  pieces  full  of  wit,  grace,  and 
ease,  which  are  a  feast  for  the  gravest  mind,  and 
which  show  the  rare  poetical  faculties  with  which 
their  authors  were  gifted.  The  most  fastidious  taste 


340  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

can  hardly  refrain  from  granting  an  approving  srnile 
to  these  frolics  of  the  imagination,  which  seems  to 
sport  with  itself  as  if  intoxicated  with  glee  and  fun. 
In  what  may  be  called  sacred,  moral  and  senti 
mental  poetry,  there  are  remarkable  compositions 
due  to  the  pens  of  Saint  Juan  cle  la  Cruz,  Saint 
Theresa,  Father  Melon  de  la  Chaide,  Father  Jose 
de  Siguenza,  who  paraphrased  many  of  the  Psalms 
of  David  ;  and  the  universal  Lope  de  Vega,  who  is 
to  be  met  in  all  the  fields  and  paths  of  literature. 
But  Father  Luis  de  Leon,  of  whom  we  have  already 
spoken,  surpasses  them  all.  Contemplation  of  the 
sacred  objects  for  which  he  tunes  his  lyre  throws 
him  into  ecstatic  beatitude.  The  rapture  of  his  soul 
breaks  out  in  tender  exclamations  of  reverence  and 
gratitude.  He  sees  and  describes  the  celestial  city 
of  the  Saints  with  a  sort  of  poetic  mysticism  and  a 
harmony  of  diction  which  produce  ineffable  emotions. 
It  sounds  like  a  distant  and  imperfectly-heard  strain 
from  the  angelic  choirs.  Among  his  works,  the  "  Ode 
on  the  Ascension  of  Our  Lord,"  and  another  on 
"Life  in  Heaven,"  deserve  to  be  mentioned  with 
special  praise.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  his 
translation  of  the  songs  of  Solomon,  with  commenta 
ries,  which  he  undertook  merely  to  please  a  friend 
who  did  not  understand  Latin,  was  the  cause  of  his 
being  detained  five  years  in  the  execrable  dungeons 
of  the  Inquisition.  He  was  suspected  of  heresy  on 
account  of  his  having  violated  the  edict  of  the  Holy 
Church  which  prohibited  the  translation  of  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  341 

sacred  books  into  any  of  the  "  vulgar'7  languages.  He 
went  through  all  the  sufferings  of  his  incarceration 
with  the  most  examplary  Christian  fortitude,  and, 
when  released  at  last,  he  contented  himself  with 
exhaling  a  modest  complaint  in  a  stanza  of  ten 
verses. 

Dramatic  poetry  and  scenic  representations  were 
much  indebted  to  Torres  Naharro  and  Lope  de 
Rueda  for  the  progress  which  they  made  toward  a 
higher  order  of  cultivation.  Juan  de  Timoneda, 
who  collected  and  published  the  works  of  his  friend, 
Lope  de  Rueda,  wrote  himself  thirteen  or  fourteen 
dramatic  compositions.  They  were  comedies,  farces, 
interludes,  tragi-comedies,  and  allegorical  pieces, 
which  were,  as  was  then  the  custom,  represented  in 
the  open  air,  and  in  which  there  were  dialogues  of 
much  vivacity.  Two  members  of  Lope  de  Bueda's 
strolling  company  of  players,  Alonzo  de  la  Yega 
and  Cisneros,  were  authors  like  himself.  But  he 
who  gave  a  new  tone  and  physiognomy  to  the  stage 
was  the  Sevillian,  Juan  de  la  Oueva,  who  composed 
pieces  divided  into  four  acts  or  days,  and  distin 
guished  for  their  variety  of  metres.  Some  were 
founded  on  events  recorded  in  the  History  of  Spain, 
such  as  the  "  Infantes  de  Lara/'  "  Bernardo  del 
Carpio/'  the  "  Siege  of  Zamora  ;"  and  others  related 
to  ancient  history,  such  as  "  Ajax,"  "  Virginia,"  and 
"Mutius  Scaevola,"  or  to  subjects  of  pure  invention, 
such  as  the  "Slanderer,"  or  the  "  Amorous  Old 
Man." 


342  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

The  Yalencian,  Chris toval  de  Virues  produced 
some  extravagant  dramas,  such  as  Cassandra  and 
Marcela,  and  others  remarkable  for  their  atrocities, 
such  as  Attila  Furious,  in  which  the  spectator  was  en 
tertained  with  the  death  of  no  less  than  fifty  persons, 
and  the  burning  of  a  ship  with  her  entire  crew.  His 
Dido,  however,  is  more  sparing  of  absurdities  and 
horrors,  and  in  it  the  unities  are  observed,  probably 
by  accident,  and  without  any  design  on  the  part  of 
the  author  to  be  guided  by  any  of  the  acknowledged 
rules  of  art.  At  about  the  same  time,  the  G-alician, 
Geronimo  Bermudez,  wrote  certain  dramatic  pieces, 
which,  with  considerable  boasting,  he  pretended  to 
be  the  first  that  deserved  in  Spain  the  name  of 
tragedies.  They  turned  on  well-known  events  of 
the  life  of  Ines  de  Castro,  whose  name,  by  a  strange 
conceit,  the  author  transformed  into  Nise,  the  ana 
gram  of  Ines.  But,  notwithstanding  the  pretensions 
of  the  vainglorious  Geronimo  Bermudez,  he  was 
eclipsed  by  the  Aragonese,  Lupercio  de  Argensola, 
whose  three  tragedies,  Isabella,  Fills,  and  Alex 
ander,  attracted  more  attention  than  any  other  com 
positions  of  the  same  kind.  Cervantes  says  that  they 
surprised  and  delighted  all  those  who  saw  them 
acted — both  the  rabble  and  the  higher  ranks  of  so 
ciety.  If  true,  it  shows  how  vitiated  was  the  public 
taste  at  the  epoch,  for  not  only  did  all  the  personages 
in  those  tragedies  meet  a  frightful  death  in  sight  of 
the  spectator,  but  he  was  regaled  also  with  other 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  343 

scenes  so  disgusting,  that  no  modern  audience  could 
tolerate  them  for  a  moment. 

The  fact  is,  that  theatrical  art  and  dramatic  poetry 
had  been  in  a  state  of  infancy  for  several  centu 
ries.  The  representations  were  given  by  stroll 
ing  actors  and  in  the  open  air,  with  costumes  of 
the  poorest,  and  scenic  decorations  of  the  roughest. 
Under  Philip  II.  all  this  rudeness  began  to  peel  off, 
and  was  succeeded  by  the  splendor  which  was  due 
to  the  genius  of  Cervantes  and  Lope  de  Vega.  It 
was  a  sudden  transition  from  twilight  to  the  glories 
of  the  meridian.  The  thirty  or  forty  comedies 
written  by  Cervantes  were  not,  it  is  true,  such  as 
might  have  been  expected  from  him,  and,  although 
they  are  but  little  remembered,  still  they  contributed 
greatly  to  the  progress  of  the  dramatic  art  and  to 
the  introduction  of  a  purer  taste.  In  a  play  which 
was  intended  to  portray  the  misery  of  captivity  in 
Algiers,  he  represented  himself  in  the  character  of 
the  slave  Saavedra.  His  Numancia,  although  de 
ficient  in  its  plot  and  other  requisites,  is  full  of  ori 
ginality  and  beautiful  scenes.  The  Confusa,  which 
he  considered  his  best  piece,  seems  to  be  the  one 
which  obtained  the  most  vogue  at  the  time.  It  was 
not,  however,  to  his  dramatic  genius  that  Cervantes 
was  to  be  indebted  for  the  universal  and  immortal 
fame  which  he  was  to  acquire. 

But  all  dramatic  authors  were  thrown  into  the 
background  as  soon  as  Lope  de  Yega  made  his  ap- 


344  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

pearance.  Such  was  his  fecundity,  that  he  was 
looked  upon  as  one  of  the  greatest  prodigies  of 
nature.  It  can  hardly  be  comprehended  how  he 
found  time  to  write  eighteen  hundred  comedies  and 
four  hundred  allegorical  plays,  besides  innumerable 
poems,  and  epic,  didactic,  lyric,  and  burlesque  com 
positions.  He  was  a  literary  Briar  eus,  with  a  hun 
dred  arms.  He  frequently,  it  is  said,  wrote  in  the 
morning  the  piece  which  was  to  be  acted  in  the 
evening ;  although  it  is  difficult  to  understand  how 
the  actors  managed  to  learn  their  parts.  He  went 
to  work  on  the  inspiration  of  the  moment,  took  up 
the  conception  which  suddenly  presented  itself  to 
his  mind,  and,  trusting  to  his  prolific  imagination, 
he  added  scene  to  scene  without  caring  for  the  ap 
propriateness  of  their  connection,  until  he  filled  up 
the  outlines  of  his  subject.  In  all  these  improvisa 
tions  it  is  impossible  not  to  admire  the  richness  of 
Lope  de  Vega's  fancy,  and  not  to  be  amazed  at  his 
inexhaustible  vein  of  invention.  At  the  same  time, 
it  is  evident  that  he  rushes  onward  without  knowing 
where  he  goes.  Therefore  he  is  the  author  of  many 
very  admirable  scenes,  but  only  of  few  good  come 
dies.  Hence,  with  his  varied  talents  and  his  bound 
less  imagination,  he  failed  to  raise  the  stage  to  that 
state  of  perfection  which  it  was  in  his  power  to  in 
vest  it  with,  if  he  had  subjected  himself  to  patient 
labor,  and  checked  with  the  hand  of  sobriety  the 
headlong  flight  of  his  muse.  As  it  is,  his  volumin 
ous  works  are  an  immense  chaos,  where  precious 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  345 

gems  and  rubbish,  and  all  the  elements  of  nature, 
occasionally  brought  together  into  harmonious  ar 
rangements,  and  with  transient  glimpses  of  acciden 
tal  fitness  and  adaptation,  are  nevertheless  whirled 
along  in  inextricable  confusion. 

Lope  de  Yega,  however,  greatly  ameliorated  the 
dramatic  art  in  Spain,  by  driving  from  the  stage  those 
coarse  farces  and  repugnant  monstrosities  to  which 
it  had  been  exclusively  surrendered.  He  gave  more 
decency  and  decorum  to  the  language  and  senti 
ments  ;  he  felicitously  united  together  the  popular 
and  erudite  expressions  of  the  Spanish  idiom  ;  he  in 
troduced  personages  more  polished,  more  tender 
hearted,  more  interesting,  and  more  within  the  range 
of  probable  existence.  Thus  he  inaugurated  a  new 
era  for  dramatic  representations,  and  it  may  be  said 
that  he  was  the  inventor  of  the  Spanish  drama,  which 
shortly  after  became  the  admiration  of  the  civilized 
world,  and  a  model  for  all  the  theatres  of  Europe. 

Lope  de  Vega's  fecundity  has  remained  a  unique 
phenomenon  in  the  annals  of  mankind.  He  lived 
seventy  years,  and  it  is  calculated  that,  during  that 
lapse  of  time,  he  wrote  poetry  to  the  average  of 
eight  pages  a  day.  It  was  an  intellectual  cataclysm, 
which  could  no  more  be  stopped  than  the  rush  of 
waters  over  the  Falls  of  Niagara.  He  monopolized 
the  theatres  of  Spain  ;  there  was  no  room  for  any 
body  else.  His  was  the  only  name  which,  for  many 
years,  figured  on  the  play-bills  —  so  much  so,  that 
whenever  a  production  of  peculiar  merit  ap- 


346  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

peared  on  the  stage,  the  people  would  obstinately 
attribute  it  to  Lope  de  Yega.  The  multitude  fol 
lowed  him  in  the  streets  ;  strangers  inquired  for 
him  as  an  object  of  extraordinary  curiosity  ;  Mon- 
archs  gazed  at  him  with  complacency,  and  admitted 
him  into  their  presence  to  shower  honors  upon  their 
admired  poet.  Even  the  Pontiffs  of  Rome  wished 
to  reward  so  wonderful  a  genius  ;  Urban  VII.  sent 
him  the  decorations  of  the  Order  of  St.  John,  and 
conferred  upon  him  the  strange  and  unexpected 
honor  of  Doctor  of  Theology,  forwarding  to  him  the 
diploma  with  an  autograph  letter  under  the  Pontifi 
cal  hand  and  seal.  Never  was  a  writer  more  in 
danger  of  being  smothered  under  his  laurels,  so  pro 
fusely  were  they  heaped  upon  the  fortunate  Span 
iard. 

Passing  from  poetical  to  prose  productions,  and 
beginning,  on  account  of  their  analogy  with  the 
former,  with  those  which  are  mere  works  of  the  im 
agination  and  only  intended  to  amuse  the  reader, 
we  find,  in  relation  to  the  kind  of  compositions 
which  were  known  under  the  general  name  of  novels, 
and  which,  in  our  days,  have  come  to  exercise  so 
marked  an  influence  on  the  morals  of  nations,  that 
the  Spaniards  cultivated  with  success  this  branch  of 
literature  under  Philip  II.  In  preceding  years, 
Spain  had  teemed  with  those  romances  of  chivalry 
which  seemed  so  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  genius  of 
her  people,  and  some  of  which  had  been  enumerated 
by  Cervantes  in  his  Don  Quixote.  After  them, 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  347 

pastoral  novels  became  the  fashion,  and,  in  our 
opinion,  had  not  the  merit  of  their  predecessors. 
The  adventures  of  Amadis,  Palmerin,  and  Belianis. 
were  full  of  marvellous  extravagances  and  monstros 
ities,  it  is  true  ;  but  they  maintained  alive  that 
antique  warlike  spirit,  those  notions  of  honor,  those 
sentiments  of  refined  love,  courtly  gallantry,  and 
deep-seated  religious  tendencies,  which  had  always 
characterized  the  Spanish  nation.  Such  works  were 
like  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  which  used  to  call  on 
the  Christian  standard  to  unfurl  itself,  and  on  the 
stout  knight  to  spring  on  his  war-horse.  But  these 
pastoral  novels,  which  were  neither  more  probable 
in  their  inventions,  nor  more  regular  in  their  forms 
of  composition,  made  no  stirring  appeal  to  the  soul, 
in  which  they  awoke  no  sentiment  of  grandeur  or 
generosity.  They  did  not  even  represent  truthfully 
the  manners,  usages,  customs  and  feelings  of  the 
shepherds  and  shepherdesses  whose  milk-and-water 
amours  they  languidly  pretended  to  portray,  in  a  lan 
guage  little  in  harmony  with  the  humble  condition 
of  keepers  of  goats  and  sheep.  The  ear  rebels 
against  the  monotonous  melody  of  the  love-sick  flute 
which  eternally  pipes  the  same  tune,  and  the  cloyed 
stomach  rises  up  to  the  gorge  in  disgust  at  the  ex 
cessive  sweetness  of  those  literary  condiments.  Of 
this  kind  of  compositions  were  the  Golden  Age,  by 
Balbuena,  the  Diana  of  Montemayor,  the  Arcadia 
of  Lope  de  Yega,  the  Galatea  of  Cervantes,  with 


348  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

innumerable    others  of  these  water-melon  produc 
tions. 

The  mind  delights  like  nature  in  variety,  and  the 
pastoral  novels  were  followed  by  those  light  and  play 
ful  stories  of  which  Don  Diego  de  Hurtado  had  given 
us  so  felicitous  a  sample  in  his  Lazarillo  de  Tormes, 
which  formed  so  remarkable  a  contrast  with  the 
austere  character  of  the  author.  The  compositions 
of  this  class  which  obtained  the  greatest  reputation 
were  the  Adventures  of  Squire  Marcos  de  D1  Oregon, 
by  Vicente  Espinel  ;  the  life  and  achievements  of  the 
roguish  Guzman  de  Alfarache,  by  Mateo  Ale  in  an  ; 
the  Lame  Devil,  by  Luis  Velez  de  Guevara  ;  and  the 
life  of  the  Great  Tacano,  by  Quevedo.  The  chief 
merit  of  these  works  consists  in  the  more  or  less 
piquancy  and  graces  of  the  style,  and  in  the  more  or 
less  exact  delineation  of  the  morals  and  customs  of  a 
certain  class  of  society.  But  as  the  heroes  of  these 
novels  were  always  personages  of  the  most  abject 
description,  such  as  servants,  thieves,  adventurers, 
swindlers,  and  other  characters  of  the  same  black 
stamp,  who  delighted  in  making  a  parade  of  their 
vices  and  infamy,  and  who  ended  by  being  the  per 
manent  tenants  of  a  jail,  the  reader,  notwithstanding 
the  amusement  which  he  derives  from  the  perusal  of 
these  witty  and  loose  compositions,  cannot  but  be 
aware  that  he  has  stooped  to  very  low  company,  and 
that  he  has  indulged  in  a  sort  of  debauch  which  it 
would  not  be  proper  to  repeat  with  too  much  fre- 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  349 

quency.  These  works,  in  which  the  humorous  kna 
veries  of  a  valet  are  recited  con  amore,  seem  almost 
to  be  the  parody  of  those  nobler  compositions  in 
which  the  superhuman  exploits  and  virtues  of  a 
knight  are  related  in  language  equally  extravagant 
and  appropriately  bombastic.  It  reminds  us  of  Ho 
mer  singing  the  Battle  of  the  Frogs  after  that  of  the 
gods  and  heroes  of  the  Iliad. 

Of  a  different  nature  were  the  Moral  Tales  of 
Cervantes  (Novelas  Ejemplares),  to  which  he  gave 
this  title,  because  he  said  there  was  nothing  in  them 
from  which  useful  lessons  could  not  be  drawn.  He 
went  so  far  as  to  declare,  that  his  object  was  to  in 
struct  as  well  as  to  amuse,  and  that  he  would  rather 
cut  off  his  hand  than  publish  anything  in  his  novels 
which  might  inspire  a  criminal  thought.  A  most 
worthy  determination,  which  should  be  common  to 
all  the  authors  of  works  of  this  kind  !  His  style  and 
tone  correspond  in  these  moral  tales  with  his  delin 
eations  of  real  life,  and  are  neither  too  low  nor  too 
elevated.  But  he  soon  surpassed  himself  in  his  Don 
Quixote  de  la  MancJia.  This  work,  which  has  never 
been  equalled,  which  retains  its  indescribable  charms 
in  all  the  languages  of  the  civilized  world  into  which 
it  has  been  translated,  which  is  a  favorite  book  with 
the  young  as  well  as  with  the  aged,  with  the  frivol 
ous  as  well  as  with  the  austere,  which  has  been  and 
will  be  the  delight  of  every  successive  century  to 
the  end  of  time,  is  too  well  known  and  appreciated 


350  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

to  require  that  anything  should  be  said  on  its  tran 
scendent  excellence. 

Under  the  reign  of  Philip  II.,  there  could,  of 
course,  be  no  political  writer.  But  one  exception  is 
afforded  by  his  celebrated  minister,  Antonio  Perez, 
who,  in  his  exile  in  a  foreign  land,  wrote  to  vindi 
cate  himself  from  the  cruel  persecution  of  his  master. 
The  pamphlets  in  which  he  speaks  of  his  official 
career,  his  fall,  his  numerous  trials  before  different 
tribunals,  his  various  imprisonments  and  his  flight, 
although  disfigured  at  times  by  an  affected  display 
of  erudition,  are  written  with  energy  and  vivacity. 
In  his  letters  there  is  more  elegance,  more  spright- 
liness,  a  more  natural  style,  and  a  greater  appear 
ance  of  candor  and  frankness.  They  are  not  free 
from  defects,  but  they  are,  on  the  whole,  a  good 
model  of  epistolary  composition.  He  owes  his  liter 
ary  reputation  to  persecution  and  exile. 

Historical  literature  was  more  progressive.  There 
was  an  abundance  of  histories  of  particular  events, 
of  the  several  kingdoms  and  provinces  which  com 
posed  the  Spanish  monarchy,  of  cities,  towns,  local 
ities,  institutions  and  men.  It  would  be  useless  to 
look  into  any  one  of  them  for  much  criticism  and 
philosophy.  Philosophy  was  then  an  exotic  in  the 
land  of  the  Inquisition,  and  circumstances  were 
evidently  not  favorable  to  its  growth.  In  some  of 
those  productions  the  language  is  ornate  and  florid  ; 
in  others  chaste,  correct  and  pure  ;  in  many  heavy 
and  uncouth  ;  and  in  most  is  to  be  observed  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  351 

prevailing  taste  of  the  epoch  for  pompous  harangues, 
long  descriptions  of  sieges  and  battles,  and  a  minute 
ness  of  details  which  makes  those  narrations  insup- 
portably  tedious.  All  those  historians  are  either 
military  men  or  ecclesiastics,  and  their  works  bear 
the  impress  of  those  predilections  and  ideas  which 
were  natural  and  inherent  in  their  respective  pro 
fessions.  There  is  in  them  too  much  of  the  priest, 
or  of  the  warrior  ;  too  much  of  the  incense  of  the 
altar,  or  of  the  smoke,  dust  and  clang  of  the  battle 
field.  Such  were,  for  instance,  the  History  of  the 
Rebellion  and  Chastisement  of  the  Moors,  by  Mar- 
mol ;  the  War  of  Granada,  by  Diego  Hurtado  de 
Mendoza ;  the  Commentaries  of  Luis  de  Avila  on 
the  War  waged  in  Germany  by  Charles  V.  /  the 
Wars  in  the  Low  Countries,  by  Carlos  Colomar, 
Marquis  de  Espinar  ;  the  Commentaries  on  tlie  Wars 
in  Flanders,  by  Bernardino  de  Mendoza  ;  the  His 
tory  of  the  Civil  Wars  of  Granada,  by  Diego  Perez 
de  Hita  ;  and  other  works  of  the  like  nature,  of  more 
or  less  merit,  composed  by  actors  in  the  scenes 
which  they  described.  These  historians  had  bled 
in  the  battles  which  they  narrated,  and  wielded  the 
pen  with  a  hand  used  to  the  grasp  of  the  sword.  If 
the  military  men  cared  little  about  recording  any 
thing  else  than  deeds  of  arms,  on  the  other  side,  the 
ecclesiastics,  who  became  historians,  neglected  facts 
of  importance  to  fall  into  ecstasy  over  the  virtues  of 
a  saint,  or  the  merits  of  a  religious  institution,  or  the 
happening  of  a  miracle,  and  briefly  mentioned  worldly 


352  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

events,  merely,  as  it  were,  to  have  the  opportunity 
of  appending  to  them  moral  reflections  and  Christian 
advice  intended  for  the  edification  of  the  reader. 
Such  is  the  Life  of  St.  Teresa  de  Jesus,  by  Father 
Diego  de  Yepes,  the  Confessor  of  Philip.  Father 
Jose  de  Siguenza,  who  wrote  the  Life  of  St.  Jerome, 
and  the  General  History  of  the  Order  of  tliat  name, 
with  admirable  elegance  and  an  easy  flow  of  style, 
and  at  the  same  time  with  great  dignity  of  tone, 
elevation  of  ideas,  and  profound  erudition,  had  all 
the  qualities  of  a  historian,  and  it  is  to  be  regretted 
that  he  did  not  employ  his  eminent  talents  in  trans 
mitting  to  posterity  the  annals  of  the  Kingdom. 

Among  the  various  histories  which  deserve  to  be 
mentioned,  notwithstanding  the  imperfections  of 
which  they  are  full,  and  which  appertained  to  the 
epoch,  are  the  General  History  of  the  World,  by 
Antonio  de  Herrera  ;  the  .First  Part  of  the  History 
of  Philip  II.,  by  Cabrera ;  the  Historical  Annals 
of  the  Kingdom  of  Ar agon,  by  Argensola,  the  author 
of  the  Conquest  of  the  Molucca  Islands  /  and,  above 
all,  the  Annals  of  the  same  Kingdom,  by  Geronimo 
de  Zurita,  the  most  conscientious,  correct  and 
searching  of  all  the  historians  who  wrote  on  the 
subject,  and  the  one  who  demonstrates  with  the 
greatest  lucidity  and  precision  the  manner  in  which 
the  Constitution  of  Aragon  grew  and  established 
itself.  Estevan  de  Garibay  published  a  Summary 
of  tlie  Chronicles  and  Universal  History  of  all  the 
Kingdoms  of  Spain,  and  the  Genealogies  of  the 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  353 

Catholic  Kings*  for  which  he  was  handsomely  re 
warded  by  Philip.  This  author  was  a  most  diligent 
investigator  of  facts,  but  his  style  is  so  dry  and  dis 
agreeable,  that,  although  his  work  may  be  consulted 
with  advantage  as  a  valuable  source  of  information, 
it  cannot  be  read  with  pleasure. 

Nothing  which  deserved  the  name  of  a  General 
History  of  Spain  had  yet  made  its  appearance.   The 
glory  of  such  a  composition  was  reserved  to  Father 
Juan  de  Mariana.     The  Spaniards  have  compared 
him  to  Titus  Livius,  whom  he  imitates  so  far  as  to 
put  in  the  mouths  of  illustrious  personages  the  most 
prolix  harangues  or  orations  ;  thus  sacrificing  his 
torical  truth  to  the  desire  of  making  a  display  of 
eloquence.     Like  his  Roman  predecessor,  he  gath 
ered  into  a  body  materials  which  were  dispersed 
and  isolated  in  disjointed  ancient  chronicles,  but  his 
work  could  not  now  be  properly  called  a  history. 
His  style  is  clear,  pure  and  dignified.     His  ideas 
and  sentiments  are  noble,  his  judgment  correct,  his 
erudition  extensive,  and  his  talents  of  a  high  order. 
He  did,  probably,  all  that  could  be  done  at  the  time. 
Had  he  lived  in  this  century,  his  work  would,  no 
doubt,  have  answered  better  all  the  requisites  of 
history.     It  must  be  remembered  that  he  could  not 
but  be  under  the  influence  of  the  age  in  which  he 
wrote.     To  this  must  be  attributed,  be  it  from  credu 
lity,  timidity,  or  respect  for  prevailing  opinions  and 

*  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  are    emphatically  called,  in  Spain,  "  The 
Catholic  Kings." 

23 


354  PHILIP    II.    OF    SPAIN. 

prejudices,  his  having  admitted  in  his  pages  so 
many  absurd  fables,  popular  errors  and  ridiculous 
traditions,  of  which  some  were  so  strikingly  excep 
tionable  that  he  himself  was  obliged  to  say  :  "  I  tran 
scribe  more  things  than  I  believe."  In  relation  to 
the  domination  of  the  Arabs  in  Spain,  which  is  one 
of  the  most  important  and  most  brilliant  parts  of  the 
history  of  that  country,  he  is  particularly  defective 
and  meagre.  He  so  invariably  disfigures  their 
names,  that  they  can  hardly  be  recognized,  and  he 
is  so  prejudiced,  that  he  never  fails  to  designate 
as  "  barbarians "  a  people  who,  in  civilization  and 
knowledge  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  had  long  been 
superior  to  his  own  countrymen.  His  work,  how 
ever,  is  of  considerable  merit ;  but  it  is  not  in  its 
pages  that  the  philosophic  reader  can  expect  to 
trace  with  lucidity  and  method  the  march  of 
those  successive  events,  and  the  gradual  influence 
of  those  causes,  which  had  produced  at  last  the  po 
litical  and  social  organization  of  Spain,  such  as  it 
existed  in  the  days  of  the  author. 

The  learned  humanist,  Francisco  Sancho  de  Bro- 
zas,  who  was  surnamed  the  "Apollo  and  Mercury 
of  Spain,"  published  several  works  on  the  Latin  and 
Greek  Grammar,  on  rhetoric  and  dialectics,  and 
became  so  much  pleased  with  his  own  attainments 
and  performances,  that  too  much  learning,  assisted 
by  too  much  vanity,  may  be  said  to  have  "  made 
him  mad  ;"  for  he  boasted  that  he  could  teach  Latin 
in  eight  months,  Greek  in  twenty  days,  spherical 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  355 

geometry  in  eight,  dialectics  and  rhetoric  in  two 
months,  and  philosophy,  with  mystic  theology,  within 
even  a  shorter  allowance  of  time. 

But  it  is  in  the  writers  on  sacred  subjects  that  the 
richness  and  perfection  at  which  the  Spanish  lan 
guage  had  arrived  are  to  be  seen.     Their  fecundity 
and  eloquence  seem     to   have  been    unsurpassed. 
Juan  de  Avila,  surnamed  the  "  Apostle  of  Anda 
lusia,"  had  astonished  and  edified  Spain  by  the  fer 
vor  of  his  sermons,  glowing  with  force  and  fluency 
of  diction,  like  a  fiery  stream  of  fused  gold.    He  was 
succeeded,  under  Philip,  by  his  friend  and  disciple, 
Father  Luis  de  Grenada,  who  was  called  the  "  Prince 
of  Sacred  Eloquence  in  Spain.77    His  style  is  so  pure 
and  vernacular,  that  in  all  his  writings  there  is  not 
to  be  found,  it  is  said,  one  word  which  is  obsolete,  or 
disused,  or  affected,  or  Latinized,  or  which  is  bor 
rowed   from   any  foreign  idiom.     This  must  have 
been  a  difficult  task,  considering  how  largely  the 
Latin   element  enters  into  the  composition  of  the 
Spanish  language.     He  had  the  rare  faculty  of  pro 
ducing  grand  effects  by  the  felicitous  way  in  which 
he  introduced  the  simplest  and  most  commonly  used 
expressions,  and,  although  there  is  hardly  one  of  his 
periods  in  which  there  is  not  the  most  consummate 
art,  it  is  so  concealed  as  not  to  appear,  except  on 
minute  examination.     It  was   said  of  him  that  no 
theological  writer  spoke  of  God  with  more  dignity 
and  awe-inspiring  force,  and  that  he  opened  to  his 
readers  the  "very  entrails  of  the  Deity.77     It  must 


356  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

be  admitted,  however,  that  his  extreme  facility  of 
composition  tempts  him  sometimes  into  verbosity 
and  redundancy. 

There  was  living  at  that  time  an  admirable  woman, 
a  saint,  who,  with  the  meekness  of  the  dove,  had  a 
heart  glowing  with  passion — such  passion  as  angels 
are  gifted  with — passion  for  all  that  is  noble  and 
divine,  and  a  soul  as  ardent  as  those  seraphic  lamps 
which  burn  in  the  presence  of  the  Most  High.  Her 
name  was  Saint  Teresa  de  Jesus,  and  her  whole  ex 
istence  was  a  sort  of  celestial  ecstasy.  Her  works 
were  written  with  talent  and  discrimination,  and  in 
a  style  chaste  and  simple,  which  not  unfrequently 
rises  to  the  sublime.  She  is  so  transported  her 
self  with  poetical  and  religious  frenzy,  that,  the 
reader,  catching  her  enthusiasm,  feels  as  if  carried 
with  her  to  the  mansions  of  eternal  glory.  "  She 
seems,"  says  Lafuente,  whom  I  have  so  often  quoted, 
"  to  have  inherited  the  soul  of  Isabella  the  Catholic, 
and  we  feel  justified  in  believing  that  Teresa,  on  the 
throne,  would  have  been  an  Isabella,  and  that  Isa 
bella,  in  the  cloister,  would  have  been  a  Saint 
Teresa." 

One  of  the  most  eminent  sacred  writers  of  the 
epoch  is  Father  Luis  de  Leon,  whom  we  have  al 
ready  mentioned  as  a  distinguished  poet.  He  is  less 
oratorical,  less  abundant  and  harmonious  than 
Father  Luis  de  Granada,  but  more  philosophical, 
more  profound  and  energetic.  Both  were  eloquent, 
and  both  were  skillful  dialecticians ;  both  were  models 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  357 

of  meekness,  virtue,  and  Christian  piety.  The  one 
has  been  compared  to  Massillon,  and  the  other  to 
Bourdaloue.  These  ascetic  writers,  with  many 
others  equally  meritorious,  who  obtained  distinction 
in  the  same  field  of  literature,  and  whom  we  are 
compelled  to  pass  over  in  silence,  on  account  of  the 
limits  which  we  have  assigned  to  this  disquisition, 
were  also  celebrated  for  the  suavity  of  their  temper, 
their  benevolence,  their  indulgent  and  compassionate 
virtues,  and  their  forbearance  to  treat  harshly  the 
frailties  of  humanity.  They  never  attempted  to 
make  proselytes  except  by  persuasion,  and  the  sweet 
influence  of  instruction  given  in  the  blandest  form. 
They  look  like  a  luminous  constellation  in  the  midst 
of  the  darkness  of  that  firmament  which  the  Inquisi 
tion  had  spread  over  Spain,  and  they  present  a  sin 
gular  contrast  with  the  unmerciful  ministers  and 
agents  of  the  Holy  Office,  whose  catechism  was  the 
gag,  the  dungeon  and  the  stake.  Some  of  them  were 
even  brought  before  that  terrible  tribunal,  and  barely 
escaped  the  most  cruel  punishment. 

With  regard  to  theology  and  jurisprudence,  it 
would  require  page  after  page  to  do  justice  to  tho^e 
who  have  acquired  an  illustrious  name  in  these  two 
branches  of  human  knowledge  under  the  reign  of 
Philip  II.  We  shall  only  mention  a  few.  Diego  de 
Lainez,  the  companion  of  Loyola  in  his  apostleship, 
and  his  successor  as  General  of  the  Order  of  Jesus, 
first  obtained  notoriety  by  his  discourses  in  the 
celebrated  Conference  of  Poissy  near  Paris,  and  rose 


358  PHILIP   II,    OF   SPAIN. 

to  celebrity  in  the  third  meeting  of  the  Council  of 
Trent,  by  the  oration  in  which  he  advocated  the  ne 
cessity  of  having  a  supreme  and  infallible  head  of 
the  Church,  immeasurably  superior  to  the  Bishops, 
who  were  to  be  the  mere  delegates  of  his  pontifical 
authority.  The  llth  volume  of  the  "  General  His 
tory  of  the  Jesuits"  bears  his  name.  His  contem 
porary,  Alfonso  de  Salmeron,  one  of  the  seven  first 
disciples  of  Loyola,  was  an  enthusiastic  propagator 
of  the  doctrines  of  his  Master  in  Germany,  Poland, 
Flanders,  France  and  Italy,  a  professor  in  the  Uni 
versity  of  Ingoldstadt,  a  distinguished  orator  in  the 
Council  of  Trent,  a  learned  commentator  of  the 
Epistles  of  St.  Paul  and  of  the  Scriptural  Books. 
Two  other  Jesuits,  Father  Thomas  Sanchez  and 
Luis  de  Molina,  produced  a  sensation  by  their 
works.  The  first  wrote  a  celebrated  treatise  on 
'  Marriage,"  and  compiled  a  "  Digest  of  Laws."  The 
second  threw  before  the  public,  like  an  apple  of  dis 
cord,  his  famous  book  on  the  "  Accord  of  G  race  with 
free  will."  It  gave  rise  to  interminable  disputes  on 
grace  and  predestination  between  the  Jesuits  and 
Dominicans,  by  which  the  religious  world  was  long 
agitated.  Melchior  Cano,  who  acted  a  conspicuous 
part  in  the  Council  of  Trent,  and  who  denounced  in 
his  writings  the  institution,  the  morals,  and  the  plans 
of  the  Jesuits,  composed  a  work  on  theology  which 
is  said  to  be  incomparable.  It  is  retained  to  this 
day  as  a  text-book  in  the  Spanish  Universities. 
Bartolome  de  Carranza,  Archbishop  of  Toledo,  also 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  359 

fimous  among  the  members  of  the  Council  of  Trent, 
°nd  the  last  Confessor  of  the  Emperor  Charles  V., 
wras  the  author  of  an  "Abbreviated  History  of  the 
Councils  and  the  Popes,  from  St.  Peter  to  Julius 
III,"  of  a  treatise  on  "  the  Residence  of  Bishops  in 
their  Dioceses,"  and  of  a  "  Spanish  Catechism."  For 
this  last  production  he  was  accused  before  the  In 
quisition,  which  persecuted  him  with  incredible 
tenacity,  although  the  people  persisted  in  venerating 
him  as  an  eminent  and  orthodox  Prelate.  Notwith 
standing  his  being  suspected  of  Lutheranism  by  the 
Holy  Office,  when  he  died  at  Rome,  where  he  had 
taken  refuge,  the  whole  population  went  into  mourn 
ing,  all  the  shops  were  closed,  and  to  his  corpse 
were  paid  all  the  honors  due  to  a  saint. 

No  less  famous  than  the  theologians  were  the  men 
present  at  the  Council  of  Trent  as  jurisconsults. 
Azpelcueta,  the  two  Covarrubias  (Diego  and  An 
tonio),  the  Archbishop  of  Tarragona,  Antonio  Angus- 
tin,  and  other  profound  jurists  who,  in  that  age, 
came  out  of  the  Universities  of  Alcala  and  Salamanca, 
who  afterwards  did  honor  to  the  schools  of  Bolonia 
and  Paris,  and  who  shone  brilliantly  in  the  eccle 
siastical  assemblies  of  Rome,  or  Trent,  or  in  the 
courts  of  England,  France  and  Germany,  raised  to 
the  highest  pitch  the  fame  of  Spanish  jurisprudence, 
civil  and  canonical.  Many  foreign  critics  have  paid 
due  homage  to  their  prodigious  erudition,  and  have 
left  on  record  appropriate  eulogies  of  their  works. 

It  is  impossible  to  speak  of  the  intellectual  move- 


360  PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN. 

ment  which  took  place  toward  the  middle  and  the 
end  of  the  16th  century,  without  mentioning  one  of 
the  most  eminent  literary  characters,  and  one  of  the 
most  learned  men  of  the  epoch,  Benito  Arias  Mon- 
tano,  who,  with  many  others,  reflected  so  much  honor 
upon  Spain  in  the  Council  of  Trent,  which  was  so 
grand  an  assemblage  of  the  most  exalted  talents, 
virtues  and  erudition  of  Europe.     He  is  well  known 
in  the  Republic  of  Letters  for  his  "  Jewish  Antiqui 
ties,"   his  "Monuments  of  Human  Salvation,"  his 
"  Translation  in  Verse  of  the  Psalms  of  David,"  his 
"  History  of  Nature,"  and  his  work  on  "  Rhetoric." 
But  he  is  more  indebted  for  his  fame  to  his  edition 
of  the  Polyglot  Bible,  which  was  especially  intrusted 
to  his  care  by  Philip,  and  which  was  published  at 
Antwerp.     To  no  other  man  could  the  charge  of  so 
difficult  and  delicate  a  task  have  been  given  with 
more  justice,  for  not  only  was  he  a  profound  theolo 
gian,  and  versed  in  the  Belles  Lettres  and  sciences, 
but  he  was  also  an  extraordinary  linguist.     Besides 
his  native  language,  he  was  a  complete  master  of 
the  Hebrew,  the  Chaldean,  the  Syriac,  the  Arabic, 
the  Greek,  the  Latin,  the  French,  Italian,  Flemish 
and  German.     This  magnificent  edition  of  the  Poly 
glot  Bible  honored  equally  the  Monarch  who  had 
ordered  it  and  the  age  which  had  seen  its  execution. 
As  a  reward,  Philip  offered  a  Bishopric  to  Montano, 
who  modestly  refused.     Unfortunately,  he  had  not 
consulted  the  Jesuits  in  the  preparation  of  his  great 
work.     They  became  envious,  and,  at  their  instiga- 


PHILIP  II.    OF   SPAIN.  361 

tion,  Montano  was  denounced  to  the  Inquisition  as 
suspected  of  Judaism,  because  he  had  given  the 
Hebrew  text  as  adopted  by  the  Rabbins.  This 
compelled  him  to  publish  a  book  in  self-defence,  the 
title  of  which  was,  "  My  Vindication."  The  accusation 
was  referred  by  the  Grand  Inquisitor  to  the  inves 
tigations  and  judgment  of  the  Jesuit,  Juan  de  Mar 
iana,  who,  contrary  to  the  expectations,  and  much  to 
the  mortification  of  the  members  of  his  company, 
reported  favorably  to  Montano.  He  must  have  been 
a  bold  man,  that  Jesuit  Mariana,  thus  to  resist,  for 
the  sake  of  justice,  the  pressure  brought  to  bear 
upon  him.  In  consequence  of  it  he  fell  himself  under 
the  displeasure  of  the  Inquisition,  which  persecuted 
him,  and  punished  him  severely  for  his  work  on  the 
"Alteration  of  Coin,"  for  another  on  "Death  and 
Immortality,"  and  particularly  for  his  treatise  on 
"Kings  and  the  Institution  of  Royalty,"  which  was 
condemned  as  seditious  by  the  Parliament  of  Paris, 
and  burned  by  the  hand  of  the  public  executioner, 
because  it  contained  a  defense  of  regicide  under  the 
name  of  tyrannicide.  He  did  not  forgive  his  brother 
Jesuits  for  their  ill-will  toward  him.  and  he  wrote  a 
book,  which  was  brought  to  light  only  after  his  death, 
and  the  title  of  which  is  :  "  Infirmities  of  the  Com 
pany  of  Jesus." 

In  this  short  literay  sketch,  we  could  not  but 
omit  to  mention  a  crowd  of  men  who  contributed 
their  mite  to  the  intellectual  wealth  of  Spain  under 
the  long  reign  of  Philip.  The  reader  who  may 


362  PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN. 

have  followed  us  in  our  course  must  have  come  to 
the  conclusion  that,  in  those  days,  there  were  two 
sciences  which  must  necessarily  have  been  excluded 
from  cultivation  and  progress — politics  and  philoso 
phy.  The  reason  is  apparent  under  such  a  monarch 
as  Philip,  and  such  an  institution  as  the  Inquisition, 
from  whose  terrible  grasp  the  most  eminent  and 
holiest  members  of  the  Church,  such  as  Archbishops, 
Bishops,  and  even  Saints,  were  not  free,  whenever 
they  indulged  in  what  was  deemed  a  liberty  of 
thought.  For  instance,  eight  venerable  prelates  and 
nine  doctors  of  theology  who  had  participated  in 
that  Council  of  Trent  which  had  established  forever 
all  the  articles  of  faith  of  the  Catholic  Church,  were 
tried  by  the  Inquisition  as  suspected  of  Lutheran- 
ism.  What  philosopher  could  have  escaped  being 
roasted  alive,  when  Loyola  himself,  the  founder  of 
the  Order  of  Jesus,  St.  Francis  de  Borgia,  his  inti 
mate  friend  and  disciple,  when  St,  Teresa,  and  a 
legion  of  others  whom  one  could  hardly  have  fancied 
within  the  reach  of  a  suspicion  of  heresy,  had  to  ap 
pear  like  supposed  culprits  before  that  redoubtable 
tribunal,  and  when  the  same  fate  awaited  Martin 
Martinez  de  Cuntalapiedra,  the  author  of  the  Hip- 
poteposeon,  merely  for  his  having  recommended  to 
consult  the  original  text  of  the  sacred  writings? 
The  wonder  is  that  anybody  presumed  to  think  at 
all,  on  any  subject,  with  the  fear  of  the  Inquisition 
hanging  over  one's  head  like  the  sword  of  Damocles. 
Fortunately,  as  we  have  seen,  there  is  no  prison  of 


PHILIP    II.    OF   SPAIN.  368 

iron,  be  it  built  by  man,  or  devil,  which  can  entirely 
prevent  the  irruption  of  mind  into  that  boundless 
space  of  free  air  which  is  its  natural  element. 

We  do  not  see  how  the  intellectual  movement 
which  unfolded  itself  in  Spain  under  the  reign  of 
Philip,  can  be  attributed  to  the  patronage  or  injki- 
ence  of  that  Monarch.  It  was  the  resu^j3f.jother 
causes,  as  we  have  said  before.  Philip  was  noi^a 
protector  of  the  arts  and  literature  after "tlfe  fashion 
of  a  Maecenas,  an  Augustus,  a  Medici,  a  Francis,  or  a 
Louis  the  Fourteenth  of  France.  He  would  not  have 
chatted  familiarly  over  a  bottle  of  wine  ^ith  Horace, 
or  Yirgil,  as  with  a  friend  and  equal.  Although 
not  deficient  in  taste,  he  was  too  cold,  too  phlegmatic, 
too  distant  and  methodic,  too  systematically  a  thing 
of  starch  and  buckram,  to  be  in  sympathizing  har 
mony  with  the  wayward,  enthusiastic,  warm-heart 
ed,  hot-headed  race  of  artists  and  poets.  The 
patron  of  the  arts  must  be  like  Apollo,  who  guided 
the  car  of  the  Sun,  and  must  surround  himself  with 
an  atmosphere  of  genial  heat.  He  must  shower 
gold,  rewards,  honors,  smiles,  caresses,  and,  above 
all,  those  felicitous  words,  which  are  the  gift 
of  Heaven  to  certain  men,  by  which  they  create 
heroes,  and  bind  forever  contented  the  priests  of  the 
mind  to  the  altar  where  they  worship  with  so  much 
toil  and  love.  Such  was  not  Philip.  There  must 
have  been  something  freezing  in  his  very  encourage 
ments.  It  was  such  a  warming  as  is  imparted  to  the 
earth  by  the  mantle  of  snow  which  covers  it,  and 


364  PHILIP    IT.    OF   SPAIN. 

not  by  the  rays  of  the  great  celestial  luminary. 
Philip  would  not  have  picked  up  the  dropped  pencil 
of  Titian,  and  would  not  have  said,  when  presenting 
it  to  him  :  u  You  are  worthy  of  being  waited  upon 
by  an  Emperor.""  Thus  spoke  Charles.  Let  us  see 
how  Philip,  in  his  turn,  treated  a  painter.  In  15 81, 
he  was  on  his  way  to  Lisbon,  and  passed  through 
Badajoz,  where  the  famous  Morales,  surnamed  the 
"  Divine,"  was  living.  He  sent  for  the  artist.  We 
do  not  presume  to  imagine  what  a  Francis  the  First, 
or  a  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  would  have  said  on  such 
an  occasion,  but  we  are  sure  that  it  would  have  been 
something  worthy  of  royalty,  and  of  the  majesty  of 
genius  which  bent,  like  a  humble  vassal,  before  the 
majesty  of  the  throne.  What  were  the  most  gra 
cious  words  which  Philip's  heart  suggested  to 
Philip's  mind  ?  He  looked  with  his  cold  gray  eyes 
at  the  great  painter  whom  he  had  summoned  to  his 
presence,  and  found  nothing  better  to  say  than : 
"You  are  very  old,  Morales."  "Aye,  and  very 
poor,  sire,"  was  the  emphatic  reply.  Philip  could 
not  but  take  the  hint  which  he  had  provoked,  and 
granted  the  artist  an  annual  pension  of  300  ducats, 
which  his  advanced  age  prevented  him  from  enjoy 
ing  long.  Out  with  such  a  man  !  We  have  no  pa 
tience  with  him.  He,  forsooth,  a  patron  of  the  arts  ! 
He  may  at  times  have  paid  well,  perhaps,  and  that 
is  all.  But  is  genius  a  base  born  varlet,  that  he  is 
to  be  satisfied  with  mere  wages  ?  Is  he  not  entitled 
to  something  else  ?  We  have  lived,  thank  God,  to 


PHILIP   II.    OF   SPAIN.  365 

see  Koyalty  make  way  for  Humboldt  to  pass.  That 
is  the  something  more  which  was  wanted.  It  is  to 
the  praise  of  our  age  that  the  sceptres  of  the  King 
doms  of  the  earth  have  learned  not  to  treat,  like 
an  intrusive  upstart,  the  sceptre  of  the  intellectual 
world. 

Philip,  on  his  death-bed,  had  complained  that 
"  Heaven,  which  had  granted  him  so  many  Kingdoms, 
had  refused  him  a  son  capable  of  governing  them.'7 
He  does  not  seem  to  have  thought  of  asking  himself 
what  he  had  done  with  the  rich  inheritance  which 
had  been  bequeathed  to  him  by  his  father.  The 
judgment  of  history  must  be,  that  he  did  very  little 
for  the  welfare  and  progressive  improvement  of  the 
condition  of  those  whom  Providence  had  intrusted 
to  his  care.  "  If  I  live  long  enough,"  had  said  his 
contemporary,  Henry  IV,  "  every  peasant  in  France- 
shall  have  a  chicken  in  his  pot  every  Sunday." 
Philip  lived  long,  and  yet  no  peasant's  home  in  his 
dominions  was  made  more  cheerful  or  comfortable 
by  his  exertions.  On  the  contrary,  what  was  bad 
when  he  ascended  the  throne,  had  grown  worse, 
when  he  descended  into  the  tomb.  He  left  Spain 
in  a  state  of  rapid  and  hopeless  decadence,  which  he 
had  never  attempted  to  arrest.  He  had  torpified 
her  and  everything  else  which  had  come  within  the 
reach  of  his  fatal  influence.  His  own  son  and  heir 
had  grown  by  his  side  hardly  with  the  capacity  of 
generating  a  thought  and  the  faculty  of  having  a 
will  of  his  own.  Philip  the  Third  became  a 


366  PHILIP    II.  OF   SPAIN. 

crowned  slave — a  being  who  was  as  anxious  to  fore 
go  power  as  his  father  had  been  not  to  delegate  a 
particle  of  it.  Philip  IV.,  was,  if  possible,  a  still 
greater  imbecile  as  a  King,  although  a  good-natured 
individual,  amiably  fond  of  dramatic  poetry,  in  the 
innocuous  composition  of  which  he  loved  to  indulge, 
and  could  not  have  lived  without  a  master.  Charles 
IT.,  the  last  of  his  race,  was  an  idiotic  maniac,  who 
thought  himself  bewitched  ;  and  when  his  wretched 
existence  ceased,  the  Crown  was  transferred  to  one 
of  the  descendants  of  that  Henry  whom  Philip  II. 
had  done  so  much  to  exclude  from  the  throne  of 
France.  The  Austrian  dynasty  had  lasted  about 
one  hundred  and  eighty-five  years.  It  began  in  a 
blaze  of  glory  which,  fora  while,  concealed  the  dele 
terious  effects  of  tyranny  and  maladministration,  and, 
having  destroyed  the  antique  liberties  of  Spain,  it 
ended,  as  it  were,  by  a  decree  of  stern  justice,  in 
premature  decrepitude,  in  inconcealable  humilia 
tion  and  abject  lunacy.  It  is  well.  Let  the  judg 
ments  of  God  be  recorded  in  the  high  court  of 
history. 


THE   END. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


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